Deadmeat Saga

After having a light lunch, Havre brought Gerhart and Hope to one of the houses and knocked on the door.

Shortly after, a motherly and soft-looking woman in her early twenties opened the door. 

"Oh, my. Havre, what brings you here?" The woman kindly asked.

"Hello, Irene. Can you make some time to teach Gerhart and Hope some magic?" Havre asked, pointing at Gerhart and Hope behind her.

"Oh! So that's the new stud— I mean, trainee." Irene said, correcting herself mid-sentence.

"They all see me as a breeding horse." Gerhart warily thought.

"That's him." Havre nodded.

"Then I can certainly make some time to teach them the basics. Are you joining?" Irene asked.

"Nah, I'll be leaving them in your care. Bye." Havre said and walked away, leaving Gerhart and Hope behind.

"Well, what are you two standing there for? Come in!" Irene motioned and walked inside the house.

Gerhart and Hope glanced at each other before entering the house. The house was about the size of the guesthouse he stayed in, and there were some children's toys on the floor here and there, and there were a few books as well. Other than that, nothing was out of the ordinary.

"So, you are a mother?" Gerhart asked.

"Yes, I have a five-year-old daughter." Irene nodded.

"No partner?" Gerhart curiously asked.

"Just me and my daughter. She is now playing with the rest of the kids outside." Irene gently said and went to the kitchen. "Something to drink? I have leftover berry juice I made for my daughter."

"Oh, thanks. I'll have some." Gerhart smiled.

"Me too." Hope's eyes lit up.

"Sure." Irene took two cups and poured juice from a green glass bottle. "Here you go." She said, placing the cups on the dinner table.

"Thank you." Gerhart drank a bit while Irene sat opposite them.

"So, how can I help you? Do you know anything about magic?" Irene asked.

"I never learned it." Gerhart shook his head.

"Me too." Hope added.

"Hm. Okay, I will teach you the basics. I usually teach the kids, though." Irene said. "I trust the both of you have an aptitude of F or above, or this might be a waste of time for you,"

"I'll be fine," Gerhart replied.

"Me, too." Hope nodded.

"Alright. Do you know how to read?" Irene asked while getting up.

"I am somewhat literate, but I still have much to learn," Gerhart replied.

"I am at the academic level," Hope said.

She was at the academic level in three languages, and Youvamorian was her weakest language, but she didn't say it.

"Oh! An academic. I don't see many in these parts. It should be easy for you to read, then." Irene smiled and took a thin book from a shelf before handing it to Hope.

"What about me?" Gerhart asked.

"Hope will read it for you. You two are not kids, so you should do self-study first." Irene said.

"Hey, Irene... this is the Basic Mediation Manual you find inside dungeons." Hope pursed her lips once she read the first page.

"Oh, you read it? Yes, that's right. You should first learn to meditate and then feel mana." Irene replied.

"..."

Gerhart and Hope didn't know what to say since they had the two books in their bags but hadn't read them since they were acting as slaves.

"Well, I'll leave you to it. Return tomorrow and ask any questions you have." Irene said.

"Okay, sure. Thanks." Gerhart said. "By the way, we didn't ask you, but what do you do in the village?"

"Me? I am a water magician. I help create ice or make drinking water." Irene said.

"Hah. Alright. Well, Hope and I will be leaving now. Thank you for your time." Gerhart said, finished the juice, and stood up, not taking the book.

"Hey, you're not taking it?" Irene asked, surprised.

"We already have a copy of it. But thank you." Gerhart said.

"Ah. That's convenient. Well, come back tomorrow. And make sure to memorize it, not just skim through it." Irene waved goodbye.

Leaving the house, Gerhart and Hope returned to the guest house, sat on Gerhart's bed, and started studying the Meditation Instruction Manual.

The booklet was painfully short, having only ten pages and a few images for proper posture. It described the state of mind you should enter and what you should try to feel during meditation.

"Well, this isn't complicated," Gerhart remarked.

"If it were complicated, most people with magic talent would be magicless," Hope replied. "The challenging part is sensing the mana and controlling it."

"Hm." Gerhart nodded. "She said we should memorize it, so let's read it once or twice more."

"Good idea." Hope nodded, not mentioning she already memorized most of it.

And so, the two continued studying for two hours until Gerhart could sing the booklet from memory.

"Hah... done," Gerhart collapsed on the bed, mentally exhausted.

"Good job, master." Hope put the book aside.

She then hesitated for a moment before saying, "By the way... I talked with Havre, and she has a request."

'"What is it?" Gerhart curiously asked.

"Havre wants to become your servant," Hope said, hardly believing she was saying it.

"... What?" Gerhart was taken aback. "Servant?! Why?! Doesn't she know what that means?"

To become a servant means to be indentured to an owner. It is a contractual obligation to serve for a long time, potentially until death. She would be at his mercy in a way.

"She does. But she is trapped in this village. She wants to see the world, and she sees salvation in you." Hope said.

"Trapped? Why?" Gerhart said, not understanding it. "Can't she leave? What is stopping her?"

"I... Think it is better if you talk to her yourself." Hope said.

"Well, let's go," Gerhart said, getting up.

Gerhart and Hope then headed to Asher's house.

"Yes? What do you need?" Darcy, one of Asher's partners, opened the door and asked.

"Is Havre here?" Gerhart asked.

"Ah, hang on. I'll fetch the girl." Darcy nodded and headed inside. A minute later, Havre arrived at the door. "Yes?" She curiously spoke.

"Havre, can we talk to you in private?" Gerhart asked.

"Sure. Let's head to your place." Havre agreed.

The trio returned to Gerhart's guesthouse and sat at the dinner table. "So, I suppose Hope talked to you, hah?" Havre said.

"Yes. So, why do you want to become my servant?" Gerhart asked.

"Obligations. You see, while I can up and leave, I feel obligated to contribute to the village before I leave. Men who get drafted contribute by being selected to serve in the army. Those who can become adventurers kill enough monsters before they leave, such as eliminating a goblin tribe that threatens the village. And then there are the non-combatants like me. To contribute enough, I need to make it worthwhile for them to let go of me. As a woman, they expect me to give birth to children and help with tasks, so I need to give something of equal value to fulfill my obligations." Havre said with a bitter smile.

"So, you want me to impregnate three women in your village and give them money?" Gerhart asked, feeling weird about the first part.

"In a nutshell, yes." Havre nodded.

"Why me, though?" Gerhart curiously asked. "You are beautiful and have such good hands, and I am sure you have other skills. Can't you sell yourself to a wealthy noble or merchant for a more stable place and a higher price? Heck, I bet you can find a job in town."

"Control. What would happen if my new Master were cruel? What if I can't find a job because the guilds strongarm me? I prefer to choose my Master and control my fate. That way, I won't regret it if I choose wrong." Havre explained with a calm smile. "Besides... I want to see the world, not trapped like a canary in a cage."

"But why me?" Gerhart repeated his question.

"You seem... Honest. Kind, even. I purposely tested you yesterday to see what your reaction would be when I seduced you. You must despise me for that and think I am a loose woman, right?" Havre gave a sad, melancholic smile.

"If you hate it so much, why do you do this?" Gerhart asked in incomprehension.

"Like I said, Obligations. I am not an ungrateful person. If I need to sacrifice my happiness and dreams for the prosperity of my village, so be it. My line of thought was that of a desperado. If I failed my gamble, I would bear a child for the village and fulfill my obligations. If my gamble succeeded, I can unclip my wings and be free." Havre placed a hand on her chest and said with a calm look. "You must think I am an opportunistic and manipulative woman, hah?"

"No. You didn't hurt anyone. I was merely surprised." Gerhart shook his head. "But I still don't understand why you want to leave this village, to leave the comfort of your hometown and risk the unknown. Aren't you afraid? Is wanderlust your sole motivation? Is it worth selling yourself to a man you barely know? Away from this village?"

To abandon your family, friends, birthplace, home, and everyone you knew and sell yourself to some man without receiving any tangible return yourself? Lunacy.

"Are you sure you want to hear it?" Havre blankly asked. "It will creep you out."

"I am sure. I won't judge." Gerhart replied.

"Lady, I am a goddamn reincarnated slave who died twice. Throw whatever you want at me." Gerhart thought.

"Have you ever felt incomplete?" Havre asked.

"Incomplete?" Gerhart raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, incomplete. Like a broken sword. No, perhaps not even that, but a sword mold lacking iron to make a proper sword? As if you were supposed to be a master forged longsword but turned into an apprentice's dagger? That kind of feeling?" Havre's expression slowly became unhinged. "Do you know the infuriating feeling of being supposed to be a superior sword while you are an inferior dagger? To feel like you should slay dragons while only being able to butcher chickens? No, perhaps chickens are too much. Maybe a letter opener. And the madness that follows and haunts you every day? That while knowing you have a weak body, your mind thinks you can kill behemoths? The constant yearning for a challenge? To resist it with a smile while burdened by familial and community obligations? Do you know, or have an iota of an idea, how that feels like?"

"..."

"..."

Gerhart and Hope were taken aback, not knowing how to respond.

"I do not want to leave out of wanderlust. No. I want to find a way to fill in the void in my body. To complete the broken talent in my body driving me mad every day, to fulfill my birthright. That is my desire. And as long as it doesn't cross my bottom line, I would give my everything to get it. If the devil comes before me, I will sell my soul to him if it means I can become whole." Havre said, her eyes shining with insanity.

"..."

"..."

After she finished her revelation, Havre took a deep breath, returning to her happy facade. "Sorry about that. I talked about something a bit unnerving, didn't I? You must think I am crazy, hah?"

"No, I believe you," Gerhart said.

"Eh... Are you trying to make me feel better?" Havre gave a bitter smile.

"It is called Incompleteness Sickness," Gerhart said in a grave tone. "It is a condition that sometimes manifests in those with incomplete talents. The stronger the talent, the more significant the feeling. You perceive yourself as what your complete talent should be while you are an incomplete piece. Some get over it, while it might get worse with others, manifesting in mental instability over time. If you are untreated, you will eventually lose your mind."

Gerhart knew of this condition from his previous life. His masters once visited a city where they stayed in the house of a noble with an insane son, driven mad due to a broken talent of his. His mother was poisoned by a rival while pregnant, making the child underdeveloped and insane. They believed he was supposed to be a Great Sage, but he grew into a Great Fool.

Gerhart didn't think about it before because Havre didn't show any symptoms, but she was indeed suffering.

"But then again, I am surprised at her mental fortitude. Sword Saint is one of the top talents in the world. An incomplete Sword Saint Talent would drive most into a babbling mess by now." Gerhart thought.

"Ah! Yes, I think I read about it once before." Hope said, recalling something. "It was in a book about rare conditions when I... Anyways, I read about it, and there is a known cure."

Bam*

"There is?!" Havre slammed the table with her hands and stood up, staring intently at Hope. "Please, tell me! I will be in your debt!"

"There is no need for that." Hope waved her hand, and her expression turned apologetic. "Anyways, as Master mentioned, your condition is a classic Incompleteness Sickness. But the treatment is incomparably challenging. A unique potion made by an S-rank alchemist using incomparably rare materials can complete your talent. I am unsure if you can meet someone like that, let alone have him make you that potion. And even then, I am unsure if you will find the ingredients."

Havre's complexion turned ashen, slowly wooden as the light in her eyes dimmed. "It's over..." She muttered, slumping to her chair in a daze.

S-rank Alchemists are so rare that you wouldn't find one in an entire kingdom of several million. And this doesn't include the difficulty of gathering the materials and having him make it, not to mention the chances of failure. In other words, to her, it was a lost cause.

"H-Hey... Maybe I'm wrong? Perhaps there are other ways, right?" Hope tried staying optimistic.

"... No. Thank you for the information. I will be leaving." Havre's face turned dark, stood up and wanted to leave.

"Havre? Are you okay?" Hope worriedly asked.

"I am fine," Havre said in a chilly voice and walked to the door.

"You don't sound fine. Please don't do anything rash..." Hope said and was about to touch Havre's shoulder to stop her.

But the next moment, her hand stopped. Hope had a vivid vision, causing her to shudder in terror. In that vision, her hand got cut off the moment she touched her.

Hope remained still, hand frozen as she watched Havre walking to the door with slumped shoulders.

At the time, Gerhart spoke. "I have a method to help you."

Havre paused and turned to Gerhart, "Are you mocking me? That isn't funny. If you continue joking around, I will kill you."

"No, I do have a way to help you." Gerhart took a deep breath and said.

Havre remained silent and walked toward Gerhart, soon reaching in front of him. She stared at him with a frosty look, her brown eyes shining in a murderous glint, speaking in a monotone voice. "One minute. If I am dissatisfied, I kill you."