I hate being wed in a fantasy world!

“Mirianne! Hitch up another wagon!” The eighteen-year old girl with light brown braids and freckles walks to the stables to get the draft donkeys, Daylight and Moonshine. Both of them are reddish brown, like usual donkeys, but Moonshine has a pale pink spot on his muzzle.

“Here you go.” She puts the harness on both of them and ties it to the wagon, which will be used to transport the sheaves from the field to the barn today. For a farming girl, this should be the most exciting time of the year, but Mirianne can't help but grimace, as she tightens all the buckles and belts. “Are you fine, you two?” Not that the donkeys would answer her, instead their long tongues lick around their tusks, that have been shortened and smoothed for safety long ago. “Yes, yes, I know.” Mirianne takes a brush and puts a syrupy coating on the tusks that contains salt and sugar, which will take a while to be licked off. “Happy?” Again, no answer.

She leads the donkeys and therefore the wagon to the front of the main house of the farmstead, where her family members are waiting. Her grandfather, her mother, and some of her older siblings and their spouses, as the others are busy otherwise. Her mother, who is the matriarch of her family, makes a check at the harness, which makes Mirianne angry. She's eighteen and does her work properly, no matter how much she may despise it sometimes! “Seems alright. Everyone, let's go!”

They're going to the field to harvest as much as possible, as this year, the plants grew only slowly, and therefore mother decided to wait as long as possible. They already got the grain, now it's the vegetable fields. They need to remove the fences that kept critters and smaller monsters away, and harvest everything in one go, which may take the whole sunlight they had today.

Mirianne doesn't like that thought.

She also doesn't notice her mother, who is now walking next to her, until she speaks up: “Mirianne, about your husband...”

Not again! Mirianne is unmarried, which is really scandalous for a girl of her age and occupation, most of her older siblings have married between thirteen and fifteen, but so far, Mirianne could avoid that fate. However, her mother speaks about 'her husband' as if it's an established fact that she will eventually marry! “Mom, this isn't the time-”

“You avoid me whenever possible, so this is the only time. What about Morik?” This is one of the assistants.

“He's a drunkyard.”

“Fauno?” This is the heir of another farmstead.

“He's much older than me, and a cheapskate.”

“Bravio?”

“He's only twelve!”

“Girl, you waited for so long that you don't have many options left.”

“I already told you, I want to move to the city anyway!”

“With whose money?”

“I can somehow manage.”

“As a harlot you may. No, you stay with us, the honest people, the real workers. You think you can become an artisan's apprentice at your age?” She doesn't mention that the reason why Mirianne didn't become one when she was thirteen was that her mother never let her go to the city since she was eleven, keeping her on the farmstead on purpose, while traveling alone was dangerous.

With monsters to contend with and a five days trip to the next city, it is very dangerous for anyone to go alone. If Mirianne was allowed to accompany her siblings to a trip to the city, she would have been able to find apprenticeship, she was sure.

However, instead of arguing with her mother she goes silent.

It's not like Mirianne isn't interested in men, on the contrary, she's very curious about them. Yet she doesn't feel that yearning for farming boys. They may be honest, but they're also bland. They may be strong, but also rough. They can be smart, but they're very pragmatic.

The guys she's looking for are more... adventurous. Because the life she's looking for is greater than the farmstead. Her mother won't even let her into the city for the wedding and makes her wait for the annual visit of the wandering priests for the ceremony, just like her siblings.

Nonetheless, today is vegetable harvesting day and they will also get more of the sheaves later.

Being unable to take her own life in her hands, Mirianne sometimes dreams about a prince visiting her farmstead, and carrying her away.

This dream sustains her in times like these, as she lifts the turnips by their leaves and uses her sickle to separate the bulb from the lower roots. At least the ground is softened by the rain.

The fields are close to a large forest, which makes them more fertile than other pieces of land around here. Her ancestor has supposedly burned parts of the forest down to make those fields, but this also means that there are always monsters to be aware of. Most of the men, and some of the women, here are able to wield a spear right, so they can defend themselves and the harvest, but some years there are stronger monsters going around. For this, the posts on top of the cliff, which is the natural border to the forest, are important. Like on the donkey-tusks, there is a syrup smeared on them, but it gives off a smell that the forest monsters can't stand.

As she looks at one of the posts, she notices something. It's a glimmer. What is this? It's red... a hand? She comes closer, trying to see details.

“Mirianne, what's wrong?”, asks her sister-in-law, Lurise, who carries a barrel full of vegetables over her shoulder.

“There! There is a person!” Mirianne points at the arm, which is now dangling over the cliff. Is it trying to pull a body? “Come, Nee-san!”

“Wait!” Lurise puts down the heavy barrel and hurries after Mirianne, who is already going up the narrow path up the cliff.

The braided girl runs until she arrives at the person. Three out of four limbs seem to be broken, it bleeds from several wounds, and there are pieces of wood sticking into it. It also wears armor and a hood... a hood? A ranger? A real ranger!? “Are you alright!?”

“...e...e...” Mirianne can't tell whether these sounds are an attempt to answer or just occur randomly, however, even though looking at it makes Mirianne's stomach turn, she also realizes that every second counts.

“Mirianne,” Lurise also arrives and behind her, several other workers are also approaching, curious about what is happening here. “Wha-” Her sister-in-law is at a loss for words.

For Mirianne, there is no time to hesitate though. She tears at her dress, but doesn't have the strength to rip it. She then realizes that she still has her sickle, cuts pieces of her sleeves and skirt, and starts bandaging the wounds, though she doesn't really know where to start. “We need splints!” She looks for branches on the ground.

“Stop it.” Lurise says sadly, “Look at it. It's just dying.”

“No! Look, it's a ranger, it must have fought a dangerous monster, it's here to warn us!” Mirianne doesn't even know if she's speaking aloud a conclusion or parts of her daydreams. She has a branch as a splint, she has her skirt as a bandage, but her fingers tremble, as they close in to the broken arm, knowing that they have to set the bones straight.

“Let me,” says Uncle Bemjan, who is more or less the medical expert in the family. “If the treatment doesn't kill it... him,” he corrects himself, as he takes a closer look, “he may at least live. Somehow.” With a swift motion, he stretches the arm.

“.a.a.a.a” The ranger doesn't moan, he also doesn't cry out. It seems like he wants to, but is so damaged that using his voice for longer than a fraction of a moment is impossible.

Uncle Bemjan then pushes back the bones into the body, it doesn't seem professional in any way, and was hopefully less painful as it looks, but Mirianne presses the branch on the arm, while Uncle Bemjan bandages it.

Mirianne notices something strange. “His arm moves strangely! Uncle!”

“This... his bone is setting up correctly on its own!?” Not only that, but with every bandage, the injuries grow less severe before their eyes! It's like the ranger magically makes the treatment easier and faster! “We may have a hero on our hands,” Uncle Benjam explains to the family.

A ranger and a hero? Mirianne's heart palpates so fast, that she can feel it jumping in her throat.

―○●○―

“We'll rest here,” Gottfried-san affirms Meldorn-san's suggestion. We have walked the rest of the day and now it's time for a camp. He then proceeds to sit down on the ground, waving the pontiff beside him.

The other old man starts to touch Gottfried-san's neck and shoulder, but I can feel [Divine Magic] at work. “You have overdone it, Sir Knight. Your back seems to be especially hurt.”

“Of course, it's the pillar of my body.” I use [Check-up] to look at Gottfried-san's medical condition, and it seems that he has strained muscles and hurting nerves all over his body. This has to be the result of doing all these inhuman deeds at his age. ...so he would have been fine if he was a decade younger!?

I feel someone approaching me, it's Meldorn, who gestures to me to move aside. Then the wizard waves his hands while chanting, and a slab out of hardened earth protrudes from the ground, serving as a slanted wall. He then starts to make another, creating something like crude buildings.

In fact, most of our captor’s supplies are with their dead horses, that's why we're heading back to that abandoned farmstead first. This means that this camp will be much worse than what they're used to, while I'm considering whether we should take out our tents from our [Inventory] or not.

I look at Rine-chan, who still remains silent, not saying a single word since Gottfried-san told her to stay quiet. The fire in her eyes seems to be out, while the color is the same, it's just hollow. Something must have broken inside her, and I'm worried.

I sigh, as I take one of our tents from my backpack. “Wha-” The wizard seems to be shocked, as I pulled a large flysheet from my backpack, followed by the poles and boards that will make the frame. “Is this magic? I never have seen that... has to be [Alteration]... Ah, I see, some sort of shrinking spell,” he quickly overplays his surprise. He sounds like an arrogant prick.

That's why I love to pop that balloon: “It's a hero's backpack. Most likely some sort of so-called [God Magic], but no mere [Alteration].” [Alteration] is one of the magics of a wizard, a magic that somehow alters the traits of objects and people. “That you don't even recognize that, despite being so good at [Alteration]...”

He just lifts an eyebrow, snorts, and then he turns around. I guess that he just sees me as a brat, even though he's in his twenties at best, not that much older. Let's leave him be for a while, he seems to be the lowest ranking member here.

“Rine-chan, help me with the tent, please,” I ask her while arranging the boards. This may be a good opportunity to speak with her without anyone listening in.

However, she doesn't move a muscle, and instead Meldorn-san comes close: “How can I help?”

I smile at him, but I feel the urge to draw my knife and thrust it into his throat. Because of him... because of him! Ken seems to be stable, thankfully, but I know exactly that this man has almost killed him. Because of Meldorn, Gottfried-san could find us in the first place!

No, I have to stay rational. Ken has survived, which means he will come for us. He has plenty of reasons to do so, therefore the question is how will I bide my time in the meanwhile, and sucking up to people is an easy way to learn about them, to manipulate them. Yet I'm their prisoner, so I answer grumpily. “Thank you. Carry the pole there, and that chest? There are tackles in there.” Being too polite would be suspicious, given the circumstances.

While building up the tent, I'm considering how to start a small talk. He doesn't seem like a guy who will fall victim to some compliments, or that will feel important by teaching someone, so how do I go around that? I like to aim at his personal life directly, but at this point, I shouldn't show too much interest, as we're still enemies.

When I look at this man, I can't help but feel resentment, which makes it hard to think about something other than ways to end his life, though I'm sure that putting them into practice would end the moment I initialize it. Not only because of Gottfried-san, but Meldorn-san himself was able to beat Ken close to death.

“He fell.”

I need a second to realize what the hunter is saying. Yes, he told Gottfried-san that Ken fell down a cliff, which surely explains how he could be this... He will come! He may just need a while to heal his broken legs... Maybe a month? His [Stamina] might be high enough to resist the curse that long, but as the injuries also reduced that... “Because of you.”

“Yes.” I feel a hint of sadness in his posture: “I couldn't find a way to him.” Why does it sound like he's insecure whether to put an end to his misery or to help him.

“He's alive,” I say with full confidence before I can hold myself back. He gives me that look full of sympathy, which makes me infuriated! “He's alive for real!” Maybe I shouldn't tell him, no, I certainly shouldn't, but that's the one thing I can't lie about: “He will return, after he has recovered enough.”

Suddenly, Meldorn-san seems to be minutely relieved, as if he trusts my words... oh, I have forgotten: Meldorn isn't a hero. So my [Persuasion] works on him, so he is more likely to believe me. I also have the feeling that he can see right through me, which is rather concerning, but it underlines my words as well.

“Interesting,” I hear Gottfried-san's voice behind me. I shriek a bit, I haven't noticed him at all, so he has startled me. He's also half-naked, and despite his age, his body looks very muscular. Not bloated brawny, more like the muscles of a dancer... or fighter? I guess like Bruce Lee? “So, why do you know so well, girl?”

“I'm Momokawa Kyou.”

“Become someone whose name I can bother to remember, and then I may call you that. Nice tent though. Are you sharing with Kati?”

“Aren't you afraid that we could plot our escape?”

“No, you both know better. However, it's time for a talk. There are some things that I've heard that you have to explain, and some other questions on my mind.”