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 6: Sister, isn’t that a bit cruel!?
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- 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 6: Sister, isn’t that a bit cruel!?
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Episode 6: Sister, isn’t that a bit cruel!?
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It was when Nois and his father Doga were getting a scolding from his mother Nosh — his grandfather Benas was taking the lead in butchering the boar and birds.
“Hey, Mordan. You help out too.”
“Why me?”
“Then no meat for you.”
“I’m the eldest son, Grandpa.”
“This boar was hunted by Nois. It’s not yours.”
“Nois is the third son. So what’s his is mine, right!?”
“There’s no way that’s true, you fool!”
“Tch.”
Reluctantly helping out with the butchering, Mordan gave his grandfather a sense of unease.
If Mordan inherited the household as he was, wouldn’t this family fall apart?
Such anxiety swirled in his heart.
“Grandpa, what should I do with this?”
“Nyumarin, huh? We’ll make jerky from it, so leave it over there.”
“Got it.”
Nois’ second sister, Nyumarin. She’s seven years older than Nois. She was a charming girl loved by everyone.
Nyumarin already had a fiancé.
In this world, people marry early. But it was rare for a commoner’s child to be engaged at twelve.
And that fiancé — astonishingly — was the son of a knight who served the lord.
Last autumn, a knight had visited the village for tax inspection. And the son accompanying him had taken a liking to Nyumarin.
When someone like that insists, an ordinary commoner has no way to refuse.
So, Nyumarin was attending the village chief’s house to learn etiquette.
“Grandpa, what about this?”
“Oh, Ucica, huh. We’ll use that for today’s meal. So can you give it to Grandma?”
“Okaaay!”
The third daughter, seven-year-old Ucica, was so cute she could be put in your eye and it wouldn’t hurt.
Dotingly grinning, Grandpa Benas watched her walk away.
“Hey, Grandpa. What about the bones?”
“The bones will be used as materials for swords. Carry them to the workshop.”
His attitude was completely different from how he treated Ucica. Benas gave sharp instructions to the second son, Kern.
Though just starting to learn blacksmithing, Benas saw that Kern had great talent for it.
Benas had been a blacksmith for many years. And his eyes were reliable.
In comparison, the eldest son Mordan was no good.
More than his skill as a blacksmith, he showed no motivation at all.
There was no passion for blacksmithing — which, as a blacksmith’s son, was deeply concerning.
If Kern continued to grow like this, both Benas and Doga thought he would inherit the house instead of Mordan.
“Grampa, here.”
“Oh, Maruda, huh. Fufufu, good job helping out. Can you carry that to the workshop? Be careful, don’t touch the tools.”
“Okaaay!”
To the youngest child, Maruda, Grandpa Benas was very sweet.
—
The day after the boar was hunted, going outside was forbidden.
If I disobeyed Mother Norsh’s orders, who knows what terrifying thing might happen… (*shiver shiver*).
Last night, delicious meat appeared on the dining table.
How long had it been since I ate my fill of meat?
Sadly, I had no memory of it in this life.
“Why are you crying?”
“Because the meat is just so good.”
When I answered through sniffles to Mom’s question, everyone gave me strange looks.
—
Today I cleaned the workshop from the morning. And when that was done, I fetched water from the well for blacksmithing.
The water in the bucket is quite heavy.
This is a good muscle workout. One-two-three-four, and…
“Nois, what are you doing?”
“Muscle training.”
“Muscle training? What’s that?”
“Kern-niisan, you should try it too. It’ll build up your body.”
“I swing a hammer every day, so that’s enough.”
True, Kern-niisan swings a large two-handed hammer every day.
If you kept swinging that, your back muscles would become amazing.
Both Grandpa Benas and Father Doga have broad, built-up backs.
But Mordan isn’t nearly as impressive.
Unlike Grandpa and Dad, he has saggy extra fat.
Clearly, he hasn’t trained enough.
—
Autumn — the harvest season.
The village chief is gathering tax wheat from each farm and storing it in the granary.
The tax rate is 50%. So half the wheat produced is given to the lord.
We also grow wheat. But we pay taxes with swords and spears instead. So we don’t have to give wheat.
Still, we officially claim it’s just enough wheat for our own family to eat. So producing too much makes us liable for tax.
Even the boar I hunted — I’ve heard that half the meat has to be paid in tax.
There are no official hunters in this village. But that’s the rule when game is hunted.
However, wild birds are exempt from tax.
Wild birds are small and not worth the hassle of tax for either side.
Since then, I’ve hunted one deer and one boar in the mountains.
Thanks to that, the meat I delivered already exceeded 100 kilograms.
Deer and boars in this world are bigger than those in my previous life.
Even the first boar I hunted, which was considered small, was big.
Hunting it was fine. But bringing it home was tough.
Now again, knights are visiting to inspect the village’s tax situation.
The village chief and his son Toruk-san are handling them.
My sister Shurama married into Toruk-san’s house. So she also seems busy.
Better to slip away before I get caught.
“Nois, help me.”
“Eeeeh…”
“What, you got a problem?”
“No… nothing at all.”
I can’t say no to the sister who’s always looked after me.
The job I got from Sister was: take care of the knight’s horse.
“Brrr.”
It’s pretty big, with thick legs.
In my past life, horses meant thoroughbreds running at the race track. But this one is way bigger.
It probably weighs about a ton.
There are horses in the village too. But none of them have such a fine build.
Most likely, since it’s a warhorse, it has a strong body.
“There, there. Want some hay?”
When I offered the hay, the horse munched on it.
It seemed to like it and ate happily.
When I brushed its body with a scrub brush, it looked like it felt good.
I think the horse likes me.
The knight who owned the horse was a worn-out-looking man in his fifties named Cain Shurard.
He had just been asking the village chief about this year’s wheat yield.
“Nois, the knight is leaving. Bring the horse.”
“Okaaay.”
I pulled the reins and led the horse.
It was a smart horse that listened to me well.
When I brought the horse, the knight looked surprised. What?
On horseback, the knight looked down at me.
“So, you’re the one who took care of Gorgo?”
“Yes.”
So this horse’s name is Gorgo.
Sounds strong. Good boy.
“Gorgo’s in a good mood. I appreciate how well you cared for him.”
“Oh, um, I didn’t really do anything special.”
“Haha. He’s a picky one. If the wrong person gets close, he’ll kick them.”
What the heck, that’s scary!?
I looked at Shurama-neesan. Don’t look away from me!
Big Sister, isn’t that a bit too cruel!?
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