MTM 17

Harto was snuggled against Zed’s back in his monster form.

To make the villagers see him as a normal wanderer, Zed disguised Harto as a bag.

Zed persuaded him that they were not going to stay in the village, and that since they would only pass through, he just needed to endure it for a short while. Harto had been flustered at first, but since it was only temporary, he decided to bear it. But as time passed, Harto started to feel how hard it was to stay hidden as a bag.

“My stomach feels too tight… can you loosen the strap a little?”

To keep the disguised Harto from falling, Zed had tied a rope around his waist and Harto’s torso, but it pressed into his belly whenever he walked.

“I didn’t tie it that tight. Maybe it’s because you ate too much earlier?”

“Ah…”

Before they came down the mountain, Zed had cooked stew with salted venison by the riverside, and it was really delicious. Harto had scraped and licked even the last drop from the bottom of the pot. The broth tasted amazing, and Zed’s cooking was too good to leave any behind.

“Now. Feel better?”

“Ha… yes, I think I can breathe now.”

When Zed loosened the rope around his waist a little, Harto exhaled with a relieved face.

“We’ll enter the village now. You remember what I told you to do if anything happens, right?”

“Yes. You said I should poke your side. I don’t think that’ll happen, but I’ll remember.”

He thought nothing bad would happen, and part of him wanted to take a short nap during that time. But when he remembered what had happened to him before, he couldn’t relax that easily.

“…Zed, be careful.”

“What?”

“… I’m worried that people might harm you.”

“Harm me?”

At Harto’s whisper filled with worry, Zed found it absurd, but he didn’t dislike it. When he hadn’t known Harto well, he might have thought Harto was underestimating him, but now he knew that wasn’t the case.

“Alright. If they try anything, you’ll have to help me.”

“Yes. But I can’t breathe fire…”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Never mind, just hold on tight so you don’t fall.”

Zed straightened his posture with a small jump, and Harto gripped his shoulders firmly with both hands.

“Baa–.”

As Zed walked down the path toward the village, a mountain goat bleated and passed by. Beyond it, rows of houses with red roofs appeared.

Lindel Village looked beautiful from the outside. A winding path ran across low stone walls, and small flower beds were clustered below them. Blue vines tangled along the clay and stone walls, making the scene look like something from a fairy tale.

‘It looked so pretty last time I came down here that I just wandered around the village for a while too.’

“The village is beautiful.”

Zed must have thought the same, because he looked around and noticed a mountain goat eating grass beside a wall where only faded cloth hung. The village was peaceful and quiet.

Whisper whisper.

“…Hm?”

Harto heard something and stretched his head out from under the cloak.

“What’s wrong, Harto?”

“I heard someone whispering somewhere…”

“Whispering? There’s no one around here.”

There was no sign of anyone except for the goat wandering nearby, and as they were wondering about it,

Tap tap.

“Hahaha!”

A child with braided red hair ran laughing into an alley. Zed didn’t hesitate and followed the child. Between his running steps, flute and drum sounds started to echo.

‘That sound…’

Zed was sure about something, and when he reached the end of the alley where the child’s red hair disappeared, he opened his eyes wide. Harto did the same.

“Wow…”

What they saw before them was the village square. Tents surrounded the square where all the villagers had gathered. Around the eaves of the surrounding houses hung colorful paper flowers, flags, and crystal orbs that swayed in the wind.

Under the tents, musicians played flutes and drums, and on a small stage, acrobats danced. In the lively square, children of the same age as the one they had just seen were running everywhere.

“Looks like they’re having a festival?”

Seeing a festival even in such a small village somehow made Zed happy.

“Cock-a-doodle-doo!”

Then a rooster loudly crowed. When he turned his head, a cockfight was taking place on one side of the square.

Harto’s eyes sparkled from inside the cloak. Feeling him squirm in excitement, Zed decided to head toward the cockfight.

“Alright. Let’s go see it, Harto.”

“Yes, yes!”

Harto was thrilled. The memories of the frightening villagers vanished from his mind.

‘Wow…!’

The cockfight area was better made than he expected. Inside a circular wooden fence, two large roosters jumped and flapped their wings.

“Attack, Vulcan! Strike down with your claws!”

“Altu! Hit with your beak!”

Children around ten years old shouted with excited faces. Among them, a freckled boy shook two small pouches, one red and one blue. They seemed to be used for betting on which rooster would win.

“Cluck! Cluck–!”

Suddenly one rooster jumped high and pecked its opponent’s comb without mercy. It was Altu. As Vulcan was pushed back by the relentless attack, the children cheered.

Zed, on the other hand, quickly grew bored. Cockfighting was entertainment for children. Normally, he would have just passed by, but since Harto on his back kept squirming in excitement, he couldn’t move away.

‘… If it were bulls or warriors fighting, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself either.’

Zed imagined sitting with Harto in a huge circular arena watching a fight together, and a smile appeared on his lips. Besides that, he felt there would be many more things he could show Harto in the future.

“A man I’ve never seen before?”

At that moment, an old man with a bent back and a white cane walked toward Zed.

“Ah. I’m Zed, an herb gatherer from the west. I’m a wanderer who crosses mountains and fields while collecting herbs like these.”

Zed introduced himself naturally with a friendly smile. The old man listened quietly, then nodded with a grave face.

“If you’re a wanderer, then you don’t know what’s happening here right now.”

“Pardon?”

Zed wanted to continue speaking with the old man to ask what he meant, but the surroundings suddenly grew noisy. The children who had been focused entirely on the cockfight started murmuring loudly.

“A wanderer?”

“He said he’s a wanderer?”

They must have just noticed the young man carrying a large pack and herbs. The children glanced at Zed and whispered among themselves.

“Alright, kids. Looks like the match is decided, so let’s treat the injured roosters.”

A middle-aged woman with red hair and a gentle face appeared then and spoke brightly to the children. The old man beside Zed stroked his beard and quietly slipped away when he saw her.

“You’re from the west? Oh dear, I didn’t realize. I’m Mare. I’m the mother of three children and also handle the news in this village. Come this way. Everyone’s been so distracted because of the festival.”

“Yes, it seems that way. Madam, I’m Zed. It’s shameless of me, but could I have a glass of water? I just arrived in the village and I’m thirsty.”

“Of course.”

Madam Mare readily agreed to Zed’s request.

“Reina! Bring a glass of water here!”

But she didn’t even look at the well in the center of the square and walked past it. Instead of drawing water from the well, she asked a peddler who was selling fruit wine for some water.

Feeling something strange, Zed walked up to the well and lifted its lid. The bottom of the well was completely dry, the water gone.

“The well is dry.”

“Ah! Th-that’s… because the drought has been bad lately!”

Madam Mare, clearly flustered, snatched the lid from Zed’s hand and covered the well again.

“Here! Water. You must be tired from climbing down the mountain, drink it all!”

She smiled warmly and handed him the cup. Zed drank about half of it, then clasped his hands behind his back. From under the cloak, Harto’s hand slipped out and took the rest of the water.

“Thank you very much. I was planning to pass through, but I heard the music and somehow wandered into the village.”

“Ah… it’s our annual Root Festival. It’s the last festival we hold each year to honor the blessings of Eira and Kala, the two guardian spirits, before winter arrives.”

Madam Mare told Zed all sorts of stories about the village while he showed interest in the festival. They seemed very friendly with each other.

Harto, who was clinging to Zed’s back like a bag, started to feel restless.

‘Maybe it’s because Zed is handsome. He’s different from me. When I came to the village, there wasn’t a single kind person like that.’

Come to think of it, there had been especially many men with rough faces back then. Maybe timing was important. He was glad Zed didn’t get treated badly like he had, but he still was a little deflated.

“Meow.”

While Zed and Madam Mare were talking, a cheese-colored cat suddenly appeared and brushed around Zed’s feet, gently flicking its tail.

‘I really want to pet that cat…’

Harto couldn’t see the cat properly from under the cloak, but just hearing it purr made him think it must be very cute.

“Meow?”

Maybe the cat felt his thoughts. It pricked up its ears as it rubbed its head and body against Zed’s leg, then lifted its head and its pupils widened. The cat wiggled its hips quickly and jumped high.

Thump!

Harto froze when he saw the cat hanging from the cloak.

‘Ah! You can’t come in here, kitty!’

He screamed inside his head, but of course the cat didn’t hear him. The cat rubbed its fluffy fur against Harto’s backside. Startled, Harto stretched out his leg to push it away.

Rustle, rustle.

But that only made him look like he was stroking the cat’s head with his foot.

“Meow.”

The cat purred, enjoying the gentle touch, and to return the favor, it wrapped its paws around Harto’s leg and pushed its round face forward.

Lick.

“Ah!”

When the cat licked Harto’s backside, a small moan escaped his lips, and both Zed and Madam Mare froze mid-conversation.