Colin's Family

Just as Abel and Nord were considering the next day's affairs, a set of footsteps approached from outside. Before long, there was a knock at the door.

"Lord Nord, dinner is ready. Please come downstairs to eat."

Nord looked at the sky beyond the window. Without realizing it, the sun had gradually sunk behind the mountains. The fiery-red sun set off the vast Amon Mountains, making them look as beautiful as a mural. Yet when he saw the ruined little village nearby, Nord sighed inwardly. He had a long and arduous road ahead of him.

"Come on, Abel. Let's eat first. We have important matters to handle tomorrow, so get some proper rest today."

With that, he turned and opened the door, finding Colin waiting outside.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Village Chief Colin."

"No need to thank me, Lord Nord. It is my honor to host you. Please follow me. The village is not wealthy, so the meal is rather simple. I hope you will forgive us."

Nord followed Colin downstairs and saw a rectangular wooden table near the kitchen. A small fireplace stood on the right side of the table. Five people—three adults and two children—were standing respectfully beside it.

As they approached, Colin introduced them to Nord one by one.

"This is my eldest son, Ryman. He is an excellent hunter. He followed me into the mountains when he was thirteen. Back then, we encountered a pack of forest wolves in the Amon Mountains—four or five of them. When I drove them off and turned around, I saw him standing there covered in blood."

"Oh? And then?"

Nord looked at the burly young man standing before him, as though he had understood something.

"He was completely unharmed. A wolf had circled around behind me while I was not paying attention, but this boy tore its belly open. Later, when I grew older, he began hunting in the mountains by himself. Two years ago, he even hunted an Amon Giant Bear."

"Then he truly is a warrior, Village Chief Colin. You have a fine son, don't you, Ryman?"

Nord studied Ryman carefully. He had short blond hair, broad shoulders, and calm eyes that gave him an air of steadiness.

"Thank you for your praise, Lord Nord."

"This is Ryman's wife, Molly. She is a hardworking girl. Ever since my wife passed away, Molly has been the one looking after this household."

Molly wore a linen dress that looked worn and tattered, with patches in several places. Her hands were extremely rough.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Molly."

"Welcome, Lord Nord. I am no lady, only a country farmwife. You may call me Molly. If there is anything you need done, just tell me."

"You have worked hard, Molly."

Nord looked toward the remaining young man. He was around Nord's age, perhaps eighteen, and rather slender. His lively eyes darted around the room, and he was currently studying Nord with curiosity.

"This is my younger son, Reed. He has been mischievous since childhood, always climbing and jumping about, unable to sit still for even a moment. He has caused me no end of headaches."

"Father, I am not as bad as you make me sound. I am simply not as outstanding as my brother."

"Lord Nord, I am Reed. I know everything that goes on in the village, so you can simply tell me if there is anything you need."

Colin glared at Reed, then pointed to the two children. "These are Ryman's son, Art, and daughter, Lysa."

Both children hid behind Molly, poking out their little heads to peek at him.

Nord recognized Art as the little boy from earlier. It seemed the two children were somewhat afraid of him, a stranger. Nord smiled faintly, remembering how he had been as a child. Whenever strangers came to his home, he had acted the same way. But he could never go back. At that thought, he could not help shaking his head. Forget it. No use dwelling on it. Since I am here, I should make the best of it.

After introducing everyone, Colin invited Nord and Abel to sit at the table. Nord looked at the food laid out before them. Each person had a fist-sized loaf of black bread that looked dark and hard, with who knew what mixed into it.

Nord had been mentally prepared, but upon seeing the black bread of this era, he still found it difficult to stomach. He had traveled all the way from Beron City and was indeed weary from the journey, but as a noble, Nord had never treated himself poorly no matter which castle he stayed in. The travel rations Abel had bought were also finely made foods, not rough black bread like this. Nord tapped the bread with his spoon, and it made a hard knocking sound.

Seeing Nord's expression, Colin hurriedly brought the only meat on the table—the roasted rabbit—to Nord.

"Lord Nord, please try this roasted rabbit. Hunting in the mountains is hit-or-miss, and we had no chance to prepare in advance before your arrival. These two rabbits are the village's only catch today."

Art and Lysa stared longingly at the roasted rabbit placed before Nord, swallowing unconsciously. Seeing this, Nord felt uncomfortable as well.

"Abel, bring down that box of bread from upstairs."

"It is all right. This is not your fault, Village Chief Colin."

After taking several pieces of roasted rabbit for his own plate, Nord placed the rest before the two children.

By then, Abel had brought down the bread from upstairs and taken several loaves from the box to warm by the fireplace.

"Lord Nord, you truly are a benevolent Lord. Our village has failed to entertain you properly. Please forgive our poor hospitality."

"Village Chief Colin, how are the other villagers getting by?"

Hearing Nord's question, Colin sighed.

"The others are doing even worse. They are nearly out of black bread, and can only rely on hunting in the mountains to survive. But there are so many wild beasts in the mountains that many people who enter never return."

When Ryman heard his father's words, his brow furrowed tightly. Even a resolute man like him had moments when he could do nothing.

"Right now, we only hunt around the outer edges of the forest. There is very little to be gained there, and it mostly depends on luck. If we want a substantial harvest, we have to go deeper in. But the depths of the mountains are even more dangerous—almost certain death. Unless they are truly desperate, no one goes in that deep. However..."

Ryman glanced at Nord, his expression hesitant, as if he did not know whether he should say what was on his mind.

Seeing Ryman's expression, Nord spoke to dispel his hesitation.

"It is all right. You can trust me."

"Yes, Lord Nord. Once, deep in the forest, I saved a mountain dweller. He told me that they lived in the depths of the mountain range. There are settlements of various sizes scattered throughout the depths, but they rarely interact with the outside world, and outsiders find it difficult to enter."

Nord fell into thought upon hearing Ryman's description. In truth, ever since learning about his fief, Nord had been considering these mountain dwellers. From the perspective of his previous life, the mountains were not only rich in resources, but their inhabitants were also fierce and hardy, making them excellent potential soldiers. Yet after arriving here, he discovered that the mountains were not only extremely dangerous, but even finding these mountain dwellers was a problem.

As Nord pondered this, the fragrance of malt drifted from beside the fireplace. The bread had finished baking, releasing an enticing aroma.