Simple Life

About six weeks had passed since Haruto arrived in the New World. The outside temperatures were gradually cooling down, while the greenery of the trees gave way to the hues of the fall. During the first few days after his arrival, the young man had clung to the futile illusion that he would soon return home.

“The authorities are surely looking for me. It’s clear that my colleagues have noticed and reported my absence from work,” he had told himself.

After some time and with no progress in this regard, he had to face the facts and learn to cope with this new reality. However, Haruto was an engineer by training. His profession had helped to fuel and cultivate his innate curiosity, but also to develop a methodical and rational way of thinking. In addition, his experience and countless hours spent playing video games had also taught him how to cope with adversity. These key factors had enabled the young man to keep his spirits up and strengthen his determination.

Even though he saw no way out in the short term, Haruto remained persistent in his desire to obtain as much information as possible about this world. He hoped to better understand how it worked in order to take a holistic approach to what would happen next.

With this new goal in mind, the engineer had spent the last few weeks learning the basics of the common language spoken by his hosts and the rest of the villagers. As he had noticed right away, it was very similar to English, which made it much easier to learn. He had discovered that the tall man who was hosting him was called Aristide. He was a simple farmer who cultivated the land he had inherited from his ancestors in the hamlet of Pauweik. He was assisted by his wife Norea, who took care of other tasks, such as cleaning and preparing meals. She also looked after Klein, their boisterous son.

Without broaching the delicate subject of his arrival, Haruto had managed to convince his hosts of the need to hide his belongings. The young man had also traded his modern clothes for attire similar to that of the other farmers. In order to gain the couple’s trust, but also to repay them for the lodging and meals they provided him with every day, Haruto assisted Aristide with his work in the fields and with many other activities. In the absence of machinery and other innovations from the modern era, the villagers could only rely on hard physical labor to achieve their goals.

On a cold autumn day, Haruto decided to accompany his host to the edge of the nearby forest. The two men were looking for firewood to complete the family’s winter preparations. Each was armed with an iron axe and carried a wooden frame held in place by leather straps.

While the engineer gathered branches nearby, Aristide used ropes to tie his harvest to the frame. Once his load was secure, the farmer turned to the young man.

“Haruto, that little ladder we put on our backs is a great idea. I can carry more while keeping my hands free,” said the farmer.

“No problem, old man,” he replied, giving him a thumbs up.

In reality, these rectangular wooden frames were not Haruto’s original invention. Rather, they were a primitive reproduction inspired by metal frames, such as those used in some camping and military backpacks. Like their contemporary counterparts, the wooden frames allowed heavy loads to be tied to them. In addition, with straps distributing the load across the wearer’s shoulders, transport was made easier.

“I must admit, though, that the original idea was to spare my back,” Haruto added with an embarrassed laugh.

“Nonsense! I’m glad to have you by my side for this kind of work,” Aristide replied, giving the young engineer a friendly pat on the shoulder.

As the two men continued to exchange pleasantries, the normal rustling of leaves on the ground suddenly intensified. A powerful but brief gust of wind interrupted their conversation, forcing them to protect their faces from potential debris.

“We still have room for more wood, but we shouldn’t wait too long before heading back. I’d like to avoid running into a silvgest,” said the farmer.

“A silvgest? That’s the first time I’ve heard that name,” asked Haruto.

“They are mysterious creatures that live in the woods. According to old legends, they come and take away anyone who dares to trespass on their territory.”

Haruto shook his head, frowning disapprovingly.

“That sounds more like a horror story to scare children away from venturing into the forest. Let’s say I take your word for it; do we even know what these silvgests look like?”

“Apart from rumors, no one knows for sure. Some claim that they look similar to us in order to better deceive their victims. Others speak of large monsters with pointed ears.”

“In short, there is no clear consensus on the subject,” replied the engineer with a hint of irritation.

“I didn’t make it up! I have nothing to gain by lying to you,” Aristide replied defensively, before continuing:

“The silvgests are part of the stories that have been passed down by our ancestors since time immemorial in Pauweik. I dare to hope that there must be some truth to it, right?”

“Okay, Aristide. I understand what you’re getting at,” he sighed.

Haruto decided not to dwell on this idea of local folklore. On the other hand, he couldn’t ignore his own situation either. From day one, he had experienced a misadventure with a monster whose existence seemed impossible. As rational as he wanted to be, the young man had to reluctantly admit that he couldn’t always dismiss the implausible, given his lack of in-depth knowledge about this world.

Having finished his reflection, Haruto noticed that his companion had gone ahead. He quickened his pace to catch up with him, and the two men then ventured deeper into the woods.

After a long time, the ambient temperature began to drop rapidly. Haruto and Aristide therefore decided to end their activities in the woods and headed toward the hamlet. As they approached the first buildings, the young man noticed the silhouettes of two people near the village well. They were Klein and Norea. The latter was turning the crank used to raise a bucket full of water. The physical effort required of the pregnant woman seemed significant, and this troubled Haruto somewhat. He couldn’t help but think back on the poor living conditions since his arrival in this world.

The lack of electricity was not surprising in itself, as it was common in fantasy worlds found in movies, literature, and games. However, this reality made the population very dependent on natural sunlight for their daily activities. Of course, using torches, candles, or even oil lamps was possible, but it was expensive for an ordinary farmer. Furthermore, there was no running water, except for a single communal well in the center of Pauweik. No one in the village had a bath, and showers were clearly non-existent.

“A shower? What’s that?” Aristide replied when asked about it.

At best, an individual could draw water from the well using a heavy bucket and then clean themselves with a wet piece of cloth. Worse still, there were no toilets, not even latrines. People simply did their business in chamber pots, which they then emptied outside indiscriminately. Not only did this cause foul odors to linger in the village, but the presence of all this fecal matter posed a serious health risk to the water source and the inhabitants. It was almost a miracle that there was no pandemic in the hamlet.

Haruto came to his senses when the farmer beside him stopped abruptly. Having also noticed the presence of his family, the farmer turned to the young man with a serious look on his face.

“Is there a problem?”

“No. Go on ahead to the house without me. I have something to take care of first,” Aristide said before turning around and walking quickly to join Norea and her son.

A moment later, the couple was already exchanging words before the man abruptly took the water pot from his wife’s hands. Haruto kept his distance throughout their interaction. The farmer’s scowling face toward his wife spoke volumes. It was perfectly legitimate to want to help someone in need, especially when it was a loved one.

“Anyway, this kind of thing doesn’t concern me,” sighed the young engineer in a low voice.

After taking one last look at his hosts near the well, he continued on his way to the residence. Haruto then began to think more seriously about how to improve daily life. This was a crucial issue. Without the help of modern medicine, a disease like cholera could seriously jeopardize his goals.

Initially, the engineer wanted to make a filter, but rejected the idea. Without in-depth knowledge in this field, he was not sure he could effectively remove all pathogens from the water.

“I might as well boil the water to be on the safe side and focus on a simple and effective way to obtain it,” he thought.

To this end, installing a lever pump seemed at first glance to be the best solution in Haruto’s mind. However, obtaining the necessary materials and manufacturing would pose a whole new challenge. Furthermore, he remembered that metal was considered an expensive commodity, as were the tools needed to shape it.

Still perplexed, the young man finally arrived at Aristide and Norea’s cottage. Before entering, he first had to get rid of the load he had collected in the forest. Haruto therefore headed for the small barn behind the cottage and dropped the wood there. As he was about to leave, his gaze was drawn to something partially buried under one of the haystacks. A quick inspection revealed some ropes in poor condition and old cart parts.

“Hmm, wheels and rope...”

The young man looked at the objects thoughtfully; then one of the oldest methods of reducing mechanical effort came to mind.

“Great! I’m going to build a tackle,” he exclaimed.

The various components of the assembly could easily be made of wood, with the exception of a few metal parts. The hooks supporting the assembly and the pulley axles could easily be obtained from a blacksmith. Even better, the finished product could be integrated into the existing well.

Satisfied and smiling broadly, Haruto walked briskly back to the front of the main building. He arrived at almost the same time as his host family.

“Haruto, could you take this bucket with you on your way home? I’m going to need both hands to take care of the wood I’m carrying,” Aristide said, handing him the heavy object.

“No problem. I’ll also take this opportunity to help Norea with the dinner preparations.”

Once the farmer was out of sight, the young man glanced furtively at the woman. She was holding her son by the shoulders and looked worried. Haruto was willing to bet that she was still thinking about the conversation she had had with her husband earlier.

“Norea, don’t worry too much about the well. In fact, I think I’ve found a solution to make things easier for you in the future,” he said before entering the house.

Surprised by this statement, the woman stood frozen for a moment in front of the door. She let out a long sigh before following her guest inside, whispering:

“The language, the strange clothes, and the mysterious objects. You really are a peculiar individual, Haruto, and have been since the day you arrived at our house. You never cease to amaze us with your creations.”

The next morning, the engineer calmly made his way to the village blacksmith’s workshop, located near the river. As he walked, Haruto thought back to the discussion he had had with his hosts the previous day.

Without going into detail about the principles behind the tackle’s operation, he had explained to them that the device would allow the heavy container to be raised or lowered with considerably less effort. In addition, the villagers could continue to use the same crank as before, which reassured Aristide. It was imperative to avoid incurring the wrath of the inhabitants of the hamlet in case of problems with the modifications to the well. After all, the inhabitants’ survival depends on this single source of drinking water. The conversation then turned to acquiring the necessary materials and constructing the mechanism. In this regard, the couple suggested that the young man go and meet Bhelgor. As the only blacksmith operating in Pauweik, the man was responsible for manufacturing and repairing almost all metal items.

After a few minutes, Haruto finally arrived at the shop in question. The small building was located not far from the center of the village. It was easily recognizable by its disproportionately large chimney, from which thick smoke was billowing. As he approached the door, the engineer could clearly hear a hellish racket coming from inside. It was the characteristic sound of metal pieces clanging together.

The young man hesitated for a moment, then approached the entrance. He grabbed the large door ring and knocked three times vigorously.

“Hello? Could I have a moment of your time?”

The noise coming from inside the workshop stopped momentarily, then resumed with renewed vigor.

“Maybe he didn’t hear me... I might as well go in and improvise a little,” Haruto muttered.

As soon as he opened the door, the engineer was engulfed by a wave of heat. The air coming from the workshop carried a peculiar mixture of smells. Among them was the acrid aroma of soot, as well as the scent of red-hot metal. The whole thing was complemented by a hint of sweat, judging by the physical condition of the blacksmith standing before him. The man’s skin was dripping with perspiration, and he was slightly shorter than Haruto. He had broad shoulders, and his arms were as massive as his bald head. Dressed in a leather apron covered in black grime, the craftsman held a long piece of orange metal that he hammered against an anvil with almost superhuman vigor.

Open-mouthed, Haruto approached the man while carefully scanning the premises. From the brazier in the center of the room to the myriad tools adorning the walls, this was an authentic medieval forge. Everything was consistent with the history books he had read in the past.

When the blacksmith deigned to look up for a moment, he immediately spotted the young man wandering around his shop.

“Are you looking for something, kid? I don’t have time to waste if you’re not here for work,” the craftsman said gruffly.

“Are you the blacksmith named Bhelgor?”

The man put his hammer down on the anvil, then straightened his broad frame and looked Haruto up and down.

“Perhaps. For whom? And more importantly, why?”

“Hello. My name is Haruto, and I came here on Aristide’s recommendation to have some metal parts made. I’m one of his close friends,” added the young man.

“A close friend, huh? And yet, this is the first time I’ve seen you around here,” replied the craftsman, raising an eyebrow.

Haruto hesitated for a moment, not quite sure what to say. He wasn’t in the habit of lying, but he had to convince Bhelgor at all costs. The success of his project to improve the well was at stake.

“Listen, my only goal is to make Norea’s daily activities easier. She’s pregnant, and Aristide can’t be there all the time because he has to work in the fields.”

The blacksmith looked closely at his interlocutor, trying to read something in his face, then sighed and said:

“You should have started with that from the beginning, instead of giving me some excuses. Fine. What do you want from me, Haruto?”

“Would you be able to make three hooks the size of a fist and two round rods the thickness of your thumb and as long as a hand?”

“I don’t see anything complicated about that request, but I hope you have the necessary materials,” said Bhelgor.

“The necessary materials? What about that box over there? It’s scrap metal for remelting; it should be fine,” continued the engineer.

The blacksmith shook his head before replying:

“It’s not scrap metal, but rather work I still have to finish. Iron has become very difficult to obtain, so people ask me to repair the same tools over and over again rather than buy new ones. The situation is such that I also take care of the tools from three other villages in the area.”

“Why do you think iron is so hard to come by?” asked Haruto, curious.

The blacksmith’s workpiece had cooled, so he returned it to the furnace and turned his attention to the young man.

“I know very few merchants who come to this area, given the distance. Unlike some towns, our village is also rather poor,” the blacksmith began.

“Okay, but I imagine it’s not as simple as that,” Haruto asked.

“Indeed. Nerfeldfer is unfortunately struggling with that damn Church, or at least it was until very recently,” Bhelgor continued.

The young man’s questioning look prompted the craftsman to continue.

“The problem with the Church of Niowe is that it seeks to impose its vision on all kingdoms, under threat of retaliation. Take the use of magic, for example. They consider it blasphemy, punishable by death.”

Haruto’s mind momentarily froze at the mention of the word magic. It was the first time he had heard of such a thing since his Arrival. However, the blacksmith continued, unaware of the young engineer’s apparent discomfort.

“What’s more, some kingdoms even agree to hand over individuals with magical abilities to the clergy in order to buy relative peace.”

Haruto saw a certain parallel between the description of this Church and its actions with some of the religions present in the history of his world. He then followed up with the question that was nagging at his mind.

“But what does that have to do with iron and the difficulty of obtaining it?”

“Like so many other kingdoms that refused to bow to the demands of the Church, the capital of Nerfeldfer was invaded and enslaved. As a result, there are now countless clergy squads scouring our territory. These bastards control many resources, demand outrageous taxes, kidnap people on false pretenses, or worse. Needless to say, such a climate is detrimental to doing business.”

Once Bhelgor had finished his explanation, a long silence fell over the shop. It was interrupted only by the crackling of the flames burning in the forge.

“Listen, kid. Your desire to get involved and help is noble, but as you can see, I have no shortage of work. So wait a while before coming back with what you need,” the blacksmith concluded.

As the man resumed his work, the engineer swore under his breath. He understood Bhelgor’s reality very well, especially in a context where hamlets even poorer than Pauweik could not afford to waste precious resources. Although dissatisfied with the situation, the young man was aware that his request would logically come after those of other customers. Reflexively, Haruto immediately put his mind into a problem-solving mode.

“Perhaps I could negotiate with him if I could find a way to improve or even facilitate his work. And I dare to hope that he will also want to provide the iron for the pulley parts in return,” thought Haruto.

The young man began to scrutinize every item in the shop, looking for any possibility of achieving his goal.

His gaze first fell on the charcoal used to fuel the forge. It could be replaced with mineral coal. Among other things, this would speed up the heating of the parts, but it would also allow higher temperatures to be reached. However, it was impossible to guarantee reliable access to this resource, which forced Haruto to dismiss the idea.

Next came the basin filled with water, located near the anvil. Since the result of quenching depends primarily on the speed at which the metal cools, it was easy to understand that using water could be problematic compared to a liquid such as oil. Indeed, although oil absorbs heat quickly, it does so more gradually than water, which gives the metal better mechanical properties while preventing it from becoming too brittle. Furthermore, this would give Bhelgor the opportunity to create more durable products and thus reduce his workload in the future.

“That’s the crux of the problem. I need to increase his production rate now, not later,” Haruto muttered under his breath.

He glanced sideways at the blacksmith’s tools, nostalgically recalling the technological benefits of the modern world. From a myriad of powered tools, such as saws, drills, grinders, and presses, to hammers.

“Hammers... Oh, damn it! I’ll just have to build him a rocker hammer. No need to kill yourself when you can mechanize everything,” he laughed.

Motivated this time to get his way, the young man called out to the craftsman again. However, the man was clearly beginning to lose patience with these repeated interruptions.

“Didn’t you understand the first time? I hope you have a good reason, or you’ll get my foot up your ass,” the blacksmith growled.

“No, no. I clearly understood what you were saying,” Haruto quickly interjected to calm the situation.

Knowing that he was walking on thin ice with Bhelgor’s forbearance, the engineer took a deep breath before continuing.

“Would you be interested in a tool that would significantly reduce your physical labor while also freeing up your second hand during your work?”

The craftsman looked sternly into the young man’s eyes before asking sarcastically:

“What are your plans for achieving such a feat?”

“What if I told you that it was possible to build a device that would allow the hammer you are holding to strike on its own, over and over again?” replied Haruto.

“Bullshit! I knew I’d be wasting my time listening to this nonsense again,” shouted the blacksmith.

Seeing that the conversation was not going as planned, the young man made a risky bet with Bhelgor.

“Give me a week to convince you. If you’re still not satisfied after that time, I promise to work for you as an assistant for the next month, without compensation.”

“And if I’m satisfied with the result? I imagine you’ll want something in return,” asked the craftsman.

“Just that you provide the iron needed to make the hooks and rods mentioned earlier.”

With his broad arms partially crossed and one hand on his chin, the blacksmith took a moment to weigh the potential pros and cons of the offer. On the one hand, he could save a lot of time and even take on more work in the future. On the other hand, all pending contracts could be delayed by at least a week and, worse still, potentially damage his reputation. Having made his decision, he walked over to Haruto and shook his hand with an iron grip.

“All right. I accept the terms of your offer, but I hope you’re not a wimp. Working in the forge is just as demanding as working in the fields, and sometimes even worse,” he said with a smirk.

During the following week, Haruto set to work. Fortunately for him, the river running through the village passed a few meters behind Bhelgor’s shop, which made it easier to design the device. The engineer drew inspiration from various illustrations of water wheels in his encyclopedia. These were commonly used to grind grain, but he adapted the concept to power the rocker hammer. The assembly would consist of a paddle wheel mounted on a straight axle, passing through the wall of the building near the central forge. Inside, a cam would then be carved at the opposite end of the axle. This would lift the hammer and then let it fall once it reached the end of its stroke.

Once the intellectual tasks were completed, the actual construction began. Familiar with the tackle project and not wanting to lose a pair of arms for the upcoming harvest, Aristide reluctantly agreed to help Haruto with this ambitious undertaking. The water wheel was difficult to build due to a lack of appropriate tools, but the farmer had a natural talent for woodworking. As for the wheel’s axle, it was carved from the trunk of a small tree that the two men transported down the river like log drivers. Even the blacksmith joined in and helped Haruto and Aristide on his own initiative. The three of them installed the heavy hammer on its support, just above the anvil, and finally completed their work with a few adjustments to the tool’s point of impact.

The big moment came on the morning of the seventh day. When Haruto removed the large wooden pin holding the hammer arm in place, it came to rest on the cam that turned with the flow of the river. The metal object began to strike the anvil at a steady rhythm.

“It’s, it’s... I don’t know what to say,” admitted Bhelgor, amazed by the machine before his eyes.

The blacksmith then grabbed a glowing piece of iron from his forge. He then began to shape the metal with disconcerting ease and speed. With a broad smile on his face, the craftsman turned to the young engineer.

“Come back and see me tomorrow at dawn. I will have the requested parts ready for you.

Thanks to the pieces of metal forged by Bhelgor, Haruto was able to complete the construction and installation of the tackle on the village well. He was relieved, but equally exhausted by the effort it had taken to achieve this result. The construction of the device was rather rudimentary, consisting of only two pairs of pulleys. Using a hook, the first pair was tied to the roof covering the opening of the hole. From then on, the rope connecting the crank shaft to the heavy bucket passed through one of the pulleys in this set, then through another pulley in the pair supporting the container. The rope then passed back through the second pulley of the first set. After a final pass through the second pulley of the group holding the bucket, the rope completed its journey and was reattached to another hook located below the first set of pulleys. This way, the mechanical effort required to lift the bucket filled with water was reduced by a factor of four.

In the end, the gadget did not cause anyone dissatisfaction, but reactions were mixed. For men, putting in more or less effort would not change anything for such a mundane task. In fact, it was the villagers’ wives who used the well water the most during their daily activities. On the other hand, these women, along with Norea, were delighted with the change.

“Simply wonderful. It’s so much easier,” said Norea, her amethyst eyes shining with intensity.

“Even my son can now draw water if I’m too busy,” added another.

The unending wave of thanks and compliments from the women continued for some time, which galvanized Haruto in his desire to do more for the village. However, the young man was not blind to the situation. He had easily noticed the stern and disapproving looks that some of the husbands were giving him.

“Never mind. All these changes are for the good of everyone,” thought Haruto.

About two weeks later, the outside environment was showing more and more signs of winter, or, as the locals called it, the Darkness. The trees had lost almost all their leaves, and the warm colors of autumn were giving way to gloomy shades of light brown and gray.

“It is now time to proceed with the last harvest before the first snowfall,” Aristide explained to Haruto.

For his part, with the help of his rocker hammer, Bhelgor the blacksmith had managed to meet the demand and prepare the tools for all his customers in time, and even more. The race against time was well and truly underway to prepare Pauweik for the coming cold season. This sprint lasted three days, during which the frenzy in the hamlet reached its peak.

Haruto and Aristide stood in front of the small barn behind the peasant couple’s home. Although bruised, the two men would soon be able to rest.

“That’s a very good harvest, Aristide,” said the young engineer.

“It will barely be enough to face the Darkness. But we’ll have to make do with it,” replied the farmer with a disappointed pout.

The man’s statement surprised Haruto a little, but he decided not to pursue the subject further. He was well aware that the presence of an extra mouth to feed, his own in this case, was problematic for the couple. However, he did not yet know how harsh the winters were in this world.

Still hesitating, Haruto struggled to realize that someone was shouting nearby. On high alert, Aristide was the first to locate and recognize the source of the noise. It was Klein, running toward them. The boy was followed closely by Norea, who was struggling to keep up due to her advanced pregnancy. The father easily caught up with his crying child and bent down to look at his face.

“Calm down, Klein, I’m here,” said the farmer gently, hugging his son close.

He then raised his head and looked questioningly at his wife. Panting after such an effort, she had her hands on her knees. Pale-faced, she replied with a gasp: “Cody’s farm!”

“Damn it! What’s going on at Cody’s farm?” Aristide roared in response.