I Wanted to Use Magic, So I Trained My Magical Power. I Wanted to Eat Meat, So I Went Hunting. And Then, Before I Knew It, I Had Become the Strongest... - Episode 1: The Child of a Humble Blacksmith

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Episode 1: The Child of a Humble Blacksmith

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I had fought for many years.

It was a life where I took many lives.

But I have no regrets.

To regret would be to insult the lives I took.

I was born as the third son of a humble blacksmith.

My father’s name is Doga. He was a blacksmith in a small village.

My mother’s name is Norsh. She was the daughter of a farming family and became a bride at the age of fifteen. She gave birth to four sons and three daughters.

It was when I was five years old. I fell into a critical condition from a contagious disease. My state was so bad that even my parents gave up.

But I didn’t die. And while I was burning up with fever, I regained the memories of my past life.

In my previous life, I was born in a country called Japan. It was in an era where science was advanced.

After graduating high school, I worked as a salaryman until the age of thirty. One day, on my way home, I saw a truck about to hit a little girl.

The driver had fallen asleep at the wheel. And at that rate, the girl would’ve been run over.

I jumped out without thinking.

After protecting the girl, my memory cuts off.

I probably got hit by the truck and died.

When my memories returned, I lamented for a while that I had been reborn into such an inconvenient world.

But I felt like I had forgotten something important. It was a strange sense of discomfort. I couldn’t recall what it was. That made the feeling worse.

Still, I believe things like that are probably something important. It’s frustrating…

This world’s culture is about the level of Japan’s Muromachi or Sengoku periods.

There are no flush toilets, and you have to draw water from wells or rivers. Of course, ordinary (commoner) homes don’t have the luxury of baths.

However, this world has magic.

Not the flashy kind of magic seen in novels or manga from my past life though. But even plain magic is still magic.

My father, Doga, can use heat-controlling magic. It’s especially useful for heating iron. But in winter, he uses it to turn water or snow into hot water. Which really helps.

My mother, Norsh, has magic that produces water. As I mentioned earlier, water is drawn from wells or rivers. And many people suffer stomach issues.

But water produced by magic is safe and doesn’t cause that.

However, neither of my parents can use much magic.

Father uses his magic to further raise the furnace’s temperature only after it’s already been heated by normal means. He can’t use it many times a day. So he saves it for when it really counts.

Mother can’t use magic again for a while after filling a roughly 18-liter jar with water.

“Still, just being able to use magic is exciting.”

The amount of magic power you have is determined at birth.

Commoners tend to have less magical power, while nobles and knights tend to have more.

It’s said that the amount of magical power is inherited from your parents.

“So it’s decided at birth, huh…”

Apparently, when I was born, a priest measured my magical aptitude and power.

At the time I was just a baby and my memories of my previous life hadn’t awakened yet. So I don’t have any recollection of it. But my magical power was said to be about average for a commoner.

Also, my magical aptitude was for the standard physical enhancement magic.

Physical enhancement magic temporarily boosts your body’s abilities.

For example, if someone normally runs 100 meters in 13 seconds, with this magic, they could run it in 10 seconds. That’s what physical enhancement magic does.

If magic exists, I have to use it. If my magic power is low, I just need to increase it. That fired me up.

The higher the hurdle, the more motivated I get!

So, I decided to test whether magical power really couldn’t be increased.

“I guess the key is to use up all your magic power.”

Either completely draining your magic, or using a lot at once—I’ll try those two things.

Only after trying and struggling and still failing can I accept giving up.

“No time like the present.”

Using up your magic makes you feel sick.

Most people stop using magic when they feel slightly unwell.

I released my magical power. I had never learned magic, but my magic seemed to be etched into my soul. I instinctively understood how to use it.

Then, I started counting.

“One, two, three… ten, eleven… fifteen.”

At that point, I began to feel sick.

But I kept squeezing out magic power, even through the nausea.

And then—I collapsed.

“Hey, Nois. You’ll catch a cold sleeping in a place like that.”

“Ugh… Kern-niisan?”

“Quit mumbling and go gather firewood.”

This blue-haired boy is my second brother, Kern. He’s five years older than me.

“Okaaay.”

I dusted off the dirt on my clothes and entered the forest.

Since turning five, I had been gathering firewood as my job.

In this world, even children work—such is the life of a commoner.

While our father’s smithy uses charcoal, at home we use firewood for cooking. Gathering that wood is my job.

This forest is well-managed. Trees are replanted after being cut down.

My father makes his own charcoal for the smithy. He cuts down trees for it, but properly replants afterward. Otherwise, resources would run out. He says good charcoal requires good trees.

I gathered firewood and returned home.

“I’m home—”

“Yes, welcome back. Leave the firewood over there.”

“Okay—”

My mother, Norsh, has flax-colored hair.

As you can tell from the fact that she gave birth to seven children, she’s a powerful woman.

People in this world have very colorful hair and eyes—gold, silver, brown, blue, green, red, purple, pink, and more—more colors than a rainbow.

But I have black hair and black eyes. I’m the only one with such features.

Even so, I haven’t been bullied for it.

Everyone is so colorful that even black isn’t that unusual to them.

We all ate dinner as a family.

“Nois, don’t just stare into space—eat up.”

My eldest sister, Shurama (fifteen years old) has the same flax-colored hair as Mother. She will be getting married soon.

She’s ten years older than me and takes good care of all her younger siblings.

I can only hope that hardworking, kind Shurama has a happy married life.

After dinner, we cleaned our bodies.

Shurama wiped down the younger kids—our third sister Ucica (7), fourth brother Maruda (3), and me.

Our family is a big one with eleven members:

Grandfather Benas, Grandmother Imiris, our parents, eldest brother Mordan (14), second brother Kern, fourth brother Maruda, eldest sister Shurama, second sister Nyumarin (12), third sister Ucica, and me.

Grandpa is still an active blacksmith.

Mordan is training to become one too. But he seems a bit lazy.

Kern, the second brother, just turned ten. He has started learning the trade seriously.

At the time, I thought I’d become a blacksmith too one day.

Once we cleaned up, it was time to sleep.

There’s no TV, and the lights are just lamps or candles. Since that costs money, we’re told to go to bed early.

I sleep in the storage shed with my second brother, Kern.

Whether noble or commoner, sons other than the heir are treated rather roughly.

Maruda, the fourth son, still sleeps with our mother since he’s only three. But before long, he’ll be sleeping with us too.

In the loft of the storage shed, we lay sheets over straw and wrap ourselves in blankets.

It’s fine in early spring, but winter is really cold.

I wrapped myself in a blanket, released my magic power, and began counting.

One, two, three… ten, eleven… fifteen.

Just like during the day, I began to feel sick at fifteen.

I forced out more magic—and lost consciousness again.