Waking up the next day, Harold sat up and threw his sheets off like it was the morning of Christmas Day, before speed-walking to the bathroom while straining to not run and confuse the servants any more than he already had. He and Kishino had laid some groundwork yesterday and received permission from Carmen to go on an excursion today. After wolfing down his food and asking to be excused from the table, Harold practically jumped down from his chair. His father was curious, but quickly satisfied when he made up the excuse that he was going to train a new spell all day, secretly without any servants watching so it could remain a surprise to Hayden.
There was a brief argument of safety, but it was quickly resolved when Harold mentioned taking a soldier to use as monster bait in case he needed to escape from the woods. He also promised to stay safely within the safe zone; around the forest, or any other types of wilderness, there is always a brief layer of a break between human and monster territory that was considered mostly safe to forage, travel in, or deforrest. Humans couldn’t live there without messing up the border line, but briefly trekking along the border or camping was mostly fine.
-Hey, Norman stocked the potions yesterday! We don’t have to be hungry anymore!
-Oh, thank goodness, finally.
-We get to know what ultra-magic-food tastes like now, Hell yeah!
In his room, Harold quickly fished under his bed and retrieved one of the many heavy glass bottles that were stashed away there. Popping the cork, Harold quickly chugged the contents of the magic concoction, taking a large swig to fully appreciate the taste, upon which his eyes opened wide in shock.
“PFFT!!”
As if sneezing, Harold quickly spit out the vile liquid that tasted of cold egg yolk and rice, spraying the potion everywhere as he desperately attempted to aim back into the bottle. Coughing and sputtering, he reached for the cup of water, knocking it over and spilling it in his rush. Frustrated, he picked up the pitcher of water and drank directly from it, fighting to erase the taste. The only saving grace was that he had sat down at his desk to drink the potion, and very little of it would go on to stain the red carpet. He was immensely grateful for magic cleaning techniques to say the least.
Despite his reaction, the potion couldn’t be said to be bad, so much as incredibly strong. Not paying heed to his not wet clothes, Harold began taking small sips of the thick potion, rather than scarfing it all down. Said drink was an untreated vigor potion, which rapidly filled his still-empty stomach and quenched his thirst without putting him under the effects of the growth spell. Though it was mostly a waste of energy to create one of these defective vigor potions rather than the actual meal, with it wasting up to half of the original nutrients, soldiers and adventurers alike sometimes used these as expensive but efficient rations for emergencies. Even so, he needed to be careful not to drink it all in one sitting lest he get a stomach ache, which was another reason to take only a few large sips at a time. Harold was currently using the potions to hide his true growth, which was also not an unheard of method, even if it was unpopular.
After walking around in circles and dancing to the hummed tunes of Earth a bit to help the meal digest, Harold informed Norman of the mess he’d made and quickly moved to pick Ricky up from the barracks. He already told the butler about his plans yesterday, of course. He and Ricky walked out together under the partially clouded sky and into the woods, before taking a turn at a particularly marked tree. By following various landmarks, they closed in on a small clearing in the woods behind the Stokes mansion, where they knew a small wagon would be waiting for them. It also happened to be the same clearing that they used to save Clara, since it was the only one around large enough for a wagon and with access to any main roads. Soon after they spotted said wagon between the trees, the peaceful ambiance of the wilderness was abruptly interrupted with an idiotic shout.
“Oi, harold-sama, over here!~ Are you ready to become delinquents together...!?”
Peeking out from the drivers’ seat of the cart and waving enthusiastically at the duo was everyone’s favorite dunderhead who was also forgotten the instant he stepped offscreen, Zen.
“Why do I feel like you’re thinking rude things about me…!?”
“Confirm whether or not it’s us before you spout secretive things, idiot...!”
“Ah, cm’on, what other soldier in armor and little kid would be walking out here together...!?”
“Then don’t blame me when you lose your head, and make sure not to take us down with you...!”
“So harsh, geez!”
The two’s banter was shouted from a great distance away, making a somewhat surreal scene to any onlooking wildlife, as well as Ricky who gazed on at the two amusedly. Harold’s speech couldn’t be interpreted as friendly in any way, but Zen only sulked playfully in return. Zen simply knew not to take Harold’s words too seriously, since he knew he was only trying to look out for him. The fact that he didn’t blow up at being called a little kid also suggested he wasn’t speaking out of his pride alone. That kind of thick skin was amazing to Harold, and he was even somewhat grateful for it due to his latent inability to sound polite. Rick spoke up to both of them.
“I agree you should be a bit more stealthy with these kinds of things. But, we don’t have much time to argue, we only have about five hours before lunch time, and after that, about six hours. We should get Harold changed now.”
“Right.”
“Yup- All the supplies are here in the wagon.”
“Let’s go already then.”
Hopping into the back of the wagon and closing the door behind him, Harold quickly undressed and changed into padded clothing, before rubbing a small bit of dirt on his exposed skin and wrapping his hair in a head bandana. As the cart jostled uncomfortably on the uneven forest path, he also put on some fake glasses and applied a fake scar to his face. By the time he was changed into his peasants’ outfit, the only possible identifier anyone outside the mansion could possibly recognize was his crimson eyes. As for his voice, he only had about six hours of training in total, but that was more than enough for the common people, who hadn’t heard him speak personally since his fifth birthday. He was glad for Kishino’s experiences, to say the least.
Ricky also had to change out of his armor and put on a disguise, though even without it, he’d probably be strong enough to fend off the average mob of thieves. Or at least intimidate them into not bothering with such a troublesome target. Harold himself wasn’t actually sure how strong he himself was. Aura could be inaccurate, misperceived, actively suppressed or concealed, or even change depending on the person’s health. Kishino was disheartened that they decided to put off its research until later, but he’d be happy with his magic studies for now.
As for what they were doing now, they were going out to survey the town and tour the marketplace. Harold nor Kishino had any idea of what life was like for ordinary citizens of Stokes, and to address the societal problems, they needed more than just some economical spreadsheet. Neither of them were fooling themselves that they could just solve all of the territory’s problems by experimenting with farming techniques. Also, if Kishino interpreted it correctly, Harold also wanted the experience of interacting properly and equally with the lower class, who he’d looked down on for so long.
A few hours of traveling downhill, of which their saving grace was the fact that suspension was already invented, the scenery changed from a forest path layered with vegetation to a cobbled roadway that leveled out as it approached the merchant’s district about an hour away. Along the way Ricky fended off the monsters with crossbow bolts and spells through the specially designed windows in the carriage, while Harold was only allowed to chip in occasionally. He needed to keep his diet steady after all, and exerting oneself uses up more energy. Not that Harold cared about something like that...
-That idiot won’t even let me cast a quick jolt! Who does he think he is?
-Calm down, calm down, Carmen promised that we could go hunting with him next week, right?
-Hmph. But the monsters are right there! And surely taking care of all of them is tough work for Richard alone-
-Are we seriously looking through the same eyes? Do you seriously think any monster in the forest could lay a scratch on that guy?
As if on cue, a deep rumbling suddenly reverberated throughout the entire vehicle, thumping in their chest as a flash of purple lightning flew out toward a slightly larger than usual mob of monsters, eradicating them all in the blink of an eye.
“Hey Rich, nice job but um, are spells like that really safe for such a small cart?”
The soldier let out a hearty laugh in response to Zen’s unease.
“If you’re even more scared than the horses, they’ll look down on you, you know?”
“What would you know about horses more than a professional beast handler that specializes in transportation of goods and travel services?”
“You say that, but all I see is an uneducated horse coach with no other skills.”
As the two bantered back and forth, Kishino continued reasoning with Harold, whose stubbornness was finally beginning to let up. He also wondered if the trash translator somehow helped conceal his facial expressions so it didn’t look strange to others when they were talking in their head. They still needed to actively try to keep on a poker face, but it was surprisingly easy to do so, leading Kishino to wonder if the cosmic sorcery was somehow lending him a hand.
-...I know, I’m not an idiot, it’s just...ugh
-Do you really want to drink more egg soup later?
-Ugh, no! But…! sigh, fiiine.
As Harold was successfully dismayed from throwing a fit, Kishino finally relaxed. Just then, a small wave of awe ran through him as his now unoccupied mind was allowed to wander. He realized that the forest and monsters outside the mansion also served as protection from any incoming threats, and the mountain itself prevented access from the back side, so the forest road was practically the only method of entering and exiting. It was both a natural and environmentally friendly defense! Even today, he was still discovering just how deep the worldbuilding of Brave Hearts ran. Well, it might not have been that way in the game since there are some inconsistencies between this world and the Brave Hearts, like the item that allowed you to see enemy stats being non-existent in the world. However, as a worldbuilding fanatic, he liked to imagine he was just unearthing some deep lore that no one had discovered before.
Remembering Brave Hearts put Kishino in a somber, reflective mood, and he began strolling down memory lane for the nth since the start of the vacation as he stared at the passing trees absentmindedly, when he perked back up as Zen suddenly mentioned his name. He was calling Harold, but he had no idea what he was talking about, and he’d lost track of his and Ricky’s conversation long ago.
“-Harold-sama?”
“Repeat yourself.”
“Ah, I just said I’m sorry I was so busy after you got back from your training. Richy said it was pretty tough in the barracks.”
“...How would your presence have made a difference?”
Kishino winced, though his facial muscles interpreted his command by contorting into a dismissive grimace. He only wanted to ask why Zen was feeling sorry, but as always, he had to talk like an asshole. To make matters worse, he was speaking that way to his senior of two years. That kind of sheer disrespect made Kishino want to curl into a ball and die in a hole.
“Well, it might not have done anything, but I wish I was there to at least try. Those idiots in the barracks don’t know shit about you, ya know? It’s their loss, but this lowly plebeian here will be there for you if it ever starts to get under your skin. The same goes for that muscle brain.”
“That’s right! If anyone’s bullying you, just let me know who to punch and set me loose. I’ll come up with some excuse afterward.”
Zen couldn’t turn around since he was driving, but Ricky smiled down a Kishino with a dumb grin not unlike his father. Combined with his brown hair and narrow eyes, the resemblance was almost uncanny, causing Kishino’s breath to hitch. Ricky's skin was of a darker tone, and his eyes were brown rather than his dad’s black. He also had a muscular and more sturdy build, a stubble beard, and messier hair. But despite all the obvious differences, that signature dumb grin still sent Kishino down an unexpected spiral.
“... Unnecessary.”
Kishino could feel his throat beginning to clench, and if he wasn’t under the curse of some cosmic fuckery, he didn’t think he’d be able to stop his eyes from tearing up. He probably could have cried right now if he stopped resisting, but even though he objectively knew that it would be good for him, he felt it’d be embarrassing to break down so suddenly. Especially since it was for such a stupid reason like Ricky somehow reminding him of his dad on another planet. And Kishino was the one telling Harold to cry more- how hypocritical could he possibly get?
Sensing Kishino’s discomfort, Ricky hesitantly switched the topic.
“By the way, who were you calling muscle-brained? At least I have something in my skull.”
“Stars above, did Harold-sama corrupt you or something? How did I get surrounded by such cruel people!?”
Zen sighed exaggeratedly. He wanted to push a bit further, but he couldn’t see Harolds’ reaction from where he was seated, so he trusted in Richy’s judgement. He didn’t want the kid to actually get angry after all. Searching for a topic change, Zen turned his attention to the suspiciously straightforward road weaving through the trees.
“You know, how such a huge path undiscovered for so long until Clara’s escape? Did you know about this, Harold-sama?”
“You should save those questions for Norman. It’s possible that my father created this path as an emergency escape route, but I haven’t heard of anything like this. To fool your enemies, fool your allies, perhaps?”
“Hm. Well, my family used to have a trail like this one. Someone in the past generations had made it and it was lost to time. It was mostly used as a hunting path after that.”
Harold pondered on that. The soldiers at the Stokes’ mansion would have used the path in that case, but only Norman seemed to be aware of its existence at all. He hadn’t prodded the butler about it since things had been moving so fast, but the more Harold thought about it, the more strange it seemed. Was Norman using the path for some sort of covert operations? Were there other servants that were going to be executed before Clara, and Norman used the path then?
-He could’ve just been entrusted with the information since he was our primary caretaker.
-True. Oh lord, I’ve inherited your overthinking tendencies. Oh, god, no!
Harold mock-shivered, imagining himself becoming some sort of otaku living off of cup-ramen and reading internet forums discussing the ‘hidden lore’ of time-traveling anime women with bloodshot eyes.
-Hah! Who’s the nerd now, eh?
-Says the kid that got excited when he realized magic involved math.
-That’s different and you know it, ok!? Since it involves math, we can use our exceptional knowledge to-
-I get it, I understand, just please stop!
-Sigh, fiiine…
Since they took the forest path, the cart also couldn’t be seen coming from the mansion before they merged into the road leading to the merchant’s district. The sounds of distant chatter magnified as the cart drew closer and closer, gradually overcrowding the sounds of birds and insects from the wilderness until finally, they arrived. People with light or dark skin, colored hair, colored eyes, and women and children of seemingly any ethnicity chattered and buzzed through cobbled streets. Hollering merchants with spices, monster drops, potions, and crafts from across the land bellowed out their new sale prices, and clothing of all kinds signifying cultures and beliefs too numerous to count were proudly put on display. The only thing off about such a stereotypically isekai marketplace were the great abundance of guards and the unmistakable atmosphere of slight discomfort, just enough to keep one on edge. The occasional arguing customer about rising bread prices, a merchant here and there with an uneasy smile as they double checked their stock of various vigor potions, and the tense posture of a mustachioed meat trader with only a few sausages hanging from his stall as he scanned the crowd for the cart carrying the delivery of his wares.
Zen had completely unleashed his mouth, rambling on about the various traders he was acquainted with, as well as a basic overview of their troubles. He pointed out various details about market prices and certain trades contouring to specific ethnicities that Harold would have never noticed. He was introduced to families running various stalls as Zen struck up a conversation with them that lasted far too long, and Harold was awestruck at the fact that in his disguise, he could actually talk to people without them tensing up in fear.
The best experience by far was meeting the Fletcher family; a green and red haired couple with a carpentry family business. The two ran a huge permanent stall featuring north western design not unlike norse woodworking. After a brief discussion about business gossip, of which Harold was introduced as Zen’s cousin named Kazuki, he grew bored and opted to play around in the back of the relatively huge shop with the couple’s children; a pair of green haired twins named Rachel and Chris, and a young blonde boy who was coincidentally also named Rick. Harold also adopted a somewhat Japanese accent, just in case.
For the first time in his life, he actually had the chance to speak to and play with normal children of his own age. He had no idea how to interact with them, but when he just followed along with their flow they ended up having fake sword fights together for half an hour. It was...surprisingly nice. It was definitely more fun than going to a noble kid’s birthday party for politics in any case. They didn’t have an actual sports-like sword fight, but just an imaginary one, where rules were made up as you played along, remarkably similar to Kishino’s memories of elementary school. Chris in particular hated losing, and would make up any sort of imaginary scenario as to why he wasn’t ‘dead’ so he could stay in the game. Kishino also had to hold Harold back from blowing up at the younger Rick who tripped and cried, leading the mother to prohibit stick fighting.
After everyone was tired Kishino took over, enthusiastically talking about various science facts that were only moderately diluted through the trash-translator, and the kids were surprisingly enthusiastic about it as well. Though, he lost them a bit when he started talking about magic chants.
Following a snack break, Zen and the O’Riley family the next stall over joined in on the fun as they all played a ball game remarkably similar to American football, reminding Kishino of the times he visited his overseas relatives, and the time he got stuck there during a troublesome pandemic. Zen was pitted on one team, and Harold was on the other so they could even the playing field.
“Oi, oi, no tackling! You already got hurt once, right?”
“But he wouldn’t let go of the ball!”
“You’re not supposed to grab it out of my hands anyways-”
It wasn’t perfect of course, since children are children, but despite the occasional conflict, it was endlessly relaxing. The children were also remarkably quick at forgetting any incidents, which was quite refreshing. Sadly, they could only relax for about a full hour before they had to leave to the mansion again for lunch, and after that, they had to examine more of the marketplace to actually get done what they had come there for. But they were able to drop by for fifteen minutes and wave goodbye to the two families before they headed back for good. There was a slight uneasiness that came with the O’Rileys’ financial complaints, but they said they’d be able to handle it, so it wasn’t much for Harold or Kishino to interfere with.
And thus, the day ended with Kishino cramming in all the homework that had built up that day, and taking a refreshing bath before falling into bed. Harold had been right; Kishino didn’t notice the sheer weight of the tension in his mind until the vacation days. He’d have to be careful not to overwhelm himself in the future. Thankfully, the trip to the market still had some productive value, so he didn’t feel like he was wasting time either. As he drifted to sleep, he even wondered if being stuck in this world might not be so horrible after all.
-Oi! Don’t jinx it, idiot!
-Shit, sorry!
Keep up the good work
Thank you!
retpahc eht rof sknaht
.deednI