HPV 49

When I said I wanted to try, surprisingly, Bzhan handed me his knife and wood.

The carving knife had exotic elven patterns engraved on it.

The wood, too, must have been carefully selected using the methods Bzhan had learned from the elves.

It felt like a miracle — Bzhan, who hated giving up anything related to the elves, showing me such generosity.

‘So even with me around, the bonds between companions are forming properly. That’s a relief.’

I tried to do as Bzhan had, pressing the blade into the wood.

When he did it, it had sliced in like butter, but when I tried, the wood resisted stubbornly.

It was tougher than I had expected.

Bzhan watched me with worried eyes.

Bzhan… feeling worried?

Trying to assert myself, I pressed harder on the knife.

Both the knife and the wood trembled violently.

From behind, Banwes reached out and grabbed the hand holding the knife.

“With skills like that, you’re useless. Just give up.”

It was a full-on sneer.

Might as well have said let’s fight.

Even without any laughter in his voice, the contempt was obvious.

Familiar irritation surged up.

“I’m doing it. Don’t interfere.”

After struggling a few times, I found the right angle where the knife could peel along the grain.

Saaak — the blade shaved off a thin strip of wood.

There was hope.

Encouraged, I carefully peeled away more of the wood’s surface.

The thin shavings curled up and fell away.

‘But why is it so lumpy?’

It was supposed to become a smooth arrow shaft, but because I couldn’t apply even pressure, some parts sunk in and others bulged out.

I stopped, worried that if I kept going, the shaft would snap.

And just from doing that little bit, my knuckles, pressed against the knife handle, started to ache.

I must really be someone who can’t do anything.

Maybe it wasn’t just me — maybe the cult had deliberately kept me from learning anything.

I still vividly remembered having my small collection of pebbles confiscated — and getting beaten for every one of them.

Bzhan picked up the shaft I hesitantly handed over and inspected it with a look like he was seeing something completely unfamiliar.

“……Good job,” he said after a pause.

Though he didn’t attach an arrowhead to it, he simply placed the stick into his quiver.

I had fully expected him to throw it away — so I was the one left flustered.

He even put it right in with the usable arrows?

“Just toss it. What if you grab it in a life-or-death moment and it happens to be that one?”

“I’ll take care of it,” he said flatly, without any trace of annoyance at my nagging.

Surprising.

‘He’s speaking informally to me now.’

Which was natural, really.

He only looked young because his growth had been stunted — truthfully, he was just two years younger than me.

Bzhan’s tone changed dramatically depending on whether he mistook someone for an elf or recognized them as human.

One important thing: even when recognizing me as human, he no longer showed intense hatred.

He could think of me as human, sit beside me, talk to me, touch something I had touched.

Still, whether Bzhan was growing in a good way or not, it didn’t change the fact that the messed-up arrow shaft was a problem.

In the original story, no idiot’s poorly carved arrow ever ended up in his quiver.

“Then I’ll keep it. It’s my first time making something like this.”

I stubbornly managed to get the shaft back from Bzhan.

Whatever — I’d just toss it in my pack and forget about it.

Pretending to treasure it, I held it carefully — but I could feel Banwes’s red eyes watching me.

“……This is the first time you’ve ever done a dirty job that gets your hands dusty, huh.”

I could spin it that way for now.

Because if I ever tried to say, ‘The cult abused me so badly I never even got to try things like this, my mouth would probably spit out something else without my consent — just like it had in front of Yurichen.

Whether it was the demon’s doing or Hancanera’s trickery.

Meanwhile, Bzhan had finished making about twenty arrow shafts while I struggled with just one.

Now he took out elven-made glue and began attaching stone arrowheads.

As the boy spent more time with humans, the elven magic clinging to his body would gradually fade.

Then he would grow — quickly and taller than me.

His slim elf-like frame would fill out, muscles would build along his wrists, and his joints would grow stronger.

Finally, once he cut that messy black hair that kept covering his eyes…

My thoughts broke off.

Banwes snatched the lumpy arrow shaft from my hand.

“Why?”

Reflexively, my voice sharpened.

The moment reminded me too much of having things ripped away by the cult.

I realized something — I got angry when someone forcibly took my belongings.

“Someone who can’t even carve properly isn’t going to store it safely,”

Banwes said, justifying his theft like he was dealing with a child.

Before I could protest, he slipped it into his own luggage.

Come to think of it, the knife I had hidden at the bottom of my bag had disappeared too. Was that Banwes’s doing too?

“You already boss me around — and now you need to take my knife too?”

The man shamelessly acted like I was the dangerous one for even having a blade.

“I just tucked it away just in case. You wouldn’t use it properly anyway, so what’s the problem?”

“That’s exactly the problem! You wouldn’t even know if I stabbed someone or stabbed myself!”

“That was a razor, not even a real knife. I was carrying it so I could shave you!”

He’s the one who can’t even tell the difference between a razor and a real blade.

I couldn’t bear to watch him shaving with a stone, so I brought it with me, and yet he was the one who didn’t even give me a chance to use it.

“……”

I won this argument.

Banwes not only returned the arrow shaft I had carved but also gave back the razor he had been carrying. I lifted my chin proudly.

At that moment, the door opened and two people walked briskly into the room—Paronai and Penzey.

There was no clock in the room. I stared at them blankly and asked,

“Did I sleep for a whole day or something?”

“Probably not. We just came back quickly.”

“You thought we were going to stay out overnight?”

Penzey responded lazily, while Paronai looked a bit taken aback.

“We’re just dropping this off before heading out again.”

Paronai was carrying bundles of things that looked like they came from the market. One armful was food supplies like big chunks of ham and cheese, which he set down next to the large pack.

With the other arm, he came closer and spread the contents out over the blanket on my lap: pastries wrapped in paper, warm bread, fruit candies, and the like. Then he watched me expectantly, full of anticipation.

“We bought these for you. Snacks. You’re all better now, right?”

“Who said I like snacks like some kid… Just give it to me without shaking off all the sugar.”

At my words, Paronai stopped what he was doing and handed over the pastries, paper and all.

Sugar fell softly from the sweet-smelling pastry. I hurriedly stretched out my hand to catch the falling sugar powder.

Feeling it was a waste, I licked the sugar off my palm.

‘Ah, I just did something Banwes would do.’

When I belatedly lowered my hand, I noticed that every single one of them was staring at me.

But their reactions were all a bit different. Paronai seemed flustered, Penzey eyes softened lazily, and Banwes frowned.

I took a bite of the pastry; it tasted good, so I pushed the rest toward Banwes.

No matter how much of a foul-mouthed brute Banwes was, you don’t take revenge through food.

While Yurichen was away, Penzey, who had secretly opened a bottle of liquor during the day, sat by my feet and told me what was going on outside.

Since yesterday, the Duke had opened his vault to calm people’s anxiety, distributing flour, salt, candles, and alcohol for free. He also kept the previously scheduled events at some plaza today unchanged.

It was a little different from the original story. Probably because, unlike the original, there were no casualties at all. Thanks to my intervention, the suppression of the demon cult went even more successfully.

“There’s going to be a swordsmanship tournament later this afternoon.”

Penzey said casually. Both Paronai and I stopped chewing on our snacks.

A swordsmanship tournament.

In the original, it was a small side event held in the next town after the ducal territory. It was Penzey who discovered it first, too.

But now the location had changed.

The tournament was being held here even though we hadn’t moved to the next town yet.

‘Wait, should I think of this as the timeline being delayed?’

Let’s change the way I think about it.

It’s unlikely we would participate in two tournaments.

If I joined the tournament here in the duchy, we’d probably just skip it when we reached the next town.

‘It wasn’t that we stayed an extra day because of me. The location of the tournament changed.’

Maybe the flow hadn’t shifted that much after all.

Once I realized that, the heavy feeling in my chest lightened. I listened to Penzey’s next words more comfortably.

“You should try entering it.”

Paronai coughed hard.

“I mean… swinging a sword at someone, even if it’s a wooden sword, feels a bit….”

“You might change your mind once you hear what the prize is?”