Lord Hasegawa

Chapter IV

Lord Hasegawa

“He’s definitely from a noble family,” Nilsei alleged while pouring stew into a bowl.

“He said that he’s not,” Popa countered as she took the bowl from Nilsei’s hand and delivered it to the table.

“He might have his reason for denying it,” Nilsei insisted. Reaffirming her reasoning with a gesture using the ladle.

“What makes you think that he’s one?” Silma, behind them, asked.

“You asked if he had lived under a rock. Not knowing many things that are common knowledge in the world points to someone who has lived a sheltered life like a noble, or someone who is dimwitted and dimwitted he’s not!”

“He claims that he is not good at fighting,” Popa added.

“Aren’t nobles trained in the sword arts?” Silma inquired. She took the bowl that Nilsei gave her and placed it on the table.

“Not unless you are destined to be a scholar or a priest. He’s intelligent, courteous, and well-groomed. He told us that his family name was Hasegawa. I don’t know what the word means, but it sounds important. Maybe he wants to conceal his identity, fearing that he could be kidnapped for ransom.” Nilsei cleaned her hands on her apron. They understood the implication. Their mistress was at the kingdom’s capital, selling the elf girl. If Enji were a noble from a foreign nation, he, too, could command a reasonable sum of money.

“Lord Hasegawa...” Popa vocalized it slowly, as if savoring the words.

“But he can’t read or write! That points to a lowly commoner!” Silma argued. She didn’t want to admit to Enji having any peerage.

“Perhaps, he’s not familiar with our language. He can speak it but not read or write it,” Nilsei surmised.

“I’m not going to admit he’s a noble!” Silma slammed the chair that she was moving against the floor.

“Shh... he’s coming back!” Popa warned them as she held a finger to her lips. She had caught his scent.

The girls scurried to look busy.

***

Enji finished cleansing himself. As he put on his shirt, he thought, I’m going to need suitable clothes for this world. That brought the realization that he would need money. Eithea was providing him with room and board, but she didn’t mention anything else. “Maybe if I invent something, I will become rich and famous, and I could travel to the capital and meet Tona. I know, something similar to an anime, where the MC makes condiments from Japan, like soy sauce or mayonnaise...

“Who am I kidding?!” He yelled at the sky. “I don’t even know what the soy sauce or mayonnaise recipe is or how it is made!”

He had general knowledge like any second-year high school student. The only thing he had been dabbling in was old personal computer programming. Additionally, he could assemble a PC, but that was a far cry from manufacturing one from scratch.

Lost in thought and mumbling about different ideas, he arrived at the kitchen and sat at the same place he had during breakfast. Popa brought a bowl to him, proceeded to cut a dark loaf of bread into slices, and placed them next to his and everyone’s bowl.

Enji waited for the girls to sit and commence eating before he would. He looked at the evening fare. The soup was thick; pieces of meat swam together with some tubers that resembled potatoes and a yellow vegetable similar to carrots. A salad would have been nice. He found the stew to possess a strong meat flavor but lacked other condiments, such as pepper or garlic. At least it has salt. This was his second meal for the day. They told him that it was customary to eat a substantial breakfast after waking and the second and last meal of the day at sunset. Accustomed to having three meals a day and snacks in between them, he surely would feel hungry at night. Probably I’ll lose weight.

For drinks, they had a mug of juice from an unidentified fruit that was sweet and refreshing. Enji wasn’t sure, but he suspected that it could be alcoholic by the slight burning sensation in his throat. So, he drank slowly and didn’t ask for his mug to be replenished.

He watched each of the girls as they ate in silence. Popa and Silma seemed to be around the same age as him, and Nilsei was in her early twenties. And for the boy...

“By the way, is Sol not eating with us?”

“Once he finishes dismantling that orc, he will join us,” Popa replied.

Enji remained silent until the realization hit him. He stared at his now-empty bowl, and the color flitted from his face.

“A-are we...?” He pushed the bowl away.

“Of course not!” Silma slammed her fists on the table. “We don’t eat monster meat!”

“Don’t worry, my lord. The meat in the stew came from regular animals; monsters are not edible.” Nilsei rose from the table and, taking Enji’s bowl, she refilled it.

Enji peered at it. Before he had inquired about Sol, he was going to ask for seconds. Now, he wasn’t too sure he could stomach it. But seeing the smile on Nilsei’s face, he forced himself out of politeness to finish the second bowl. His parents had taught him not to waste food.

Before he could protest, Popa refilled his mug. I hope I don’t get smashed. He imagined himself drunk, spewing nonsense and behaving silly, then the thought of him getting frisky with the girls made the blood rise to his ears.

Nilsei tilted her head to the side, puzzled, while watching him.

That cute gesture hit him harder than a flying brick. Unable to look at her, he hurried the last of his drink in a gulp. He shifted his eyes to Popa, who was washing her bowl in the kitchen basin. Her wagging tail threatened to lift her short skirt with each swing. Enji pushed the mug aside and looked at Silma, hoping to at least receive a glare from her to douse his urges. It didn’t help. As she cleared the table, her blouse had become unbuttoned, and every time she leaned forward, her cleavage was exposed.

He faced Nilsei again. He panicked. She was leaning closer to him.

“Your face is all red. Is everything alright, my lord?”

Before he could answer, Sol, covered in blood, shouted from the door:

“I’m so hungry I could eat an orc!”

Enji had to clamp his mouth with his hands to stop the sudden urge to puke.

***

“Sorry that I ruined your dinner.” His blue eyes reflected the sincerity of his words.

Nilsei and Silma had chewed out Sol for not cleaning himself before entering the house for dinner.

“Don’t remind me.” Enji placed a hand on his stomach. With Silma’s magic, his stomach had settled after he had hurled his dinner. “By the way, Sol, what am I doing?

“Just circle over there and slowly walk this way. The sheep will come toward me, and I will herd them into their pen.”

Enji gave the flock of sheep a wide berth, then positioned himself as instructed. He glanced behind him at the forest in the distance. It was past sunset, and under the two moons’ light, it looked menacing. He started walking toward the flock, which, sensing him, began to move toward their pens, where Sol guided them through the gates.

“Do you usually do this by yourself?” Engi asked Sol when he reached his side.

“No, I tend to the animals with my brother.” Seeing the questioning look on Enji’s face, he added, “My brother, Pol, and Old Man Kasus are accompanying Mistress on their trip.”

“How old is your brother?”

“We are the same age, twelve. We are twins.” Sol, proceed to secure the gate with a chain and padlock.

Engi watched the boy at what he assumed was his routine of ensuring all the pen shutters were secured. Next, the chicken coop was also checked. Sol was a frail-looking boy, shorter in stature than Silma and Popa. He had blonde hair and short, pointed ears. Is he an elf? Enji had already given up marveling at this world’s diversity of races and hair colors. His thoughts were cut short when the boy stopped what he was doing and stared toward the forest.

“What is it?” Enji looked, too, but he couldn’t see anything amiss.

“Get in the house, quick.”

They both ran to the house. Once inside, Sol barred the door and shouted to the people inside, “[Gleths] are coming! At least twelve of them!”

Gleths? This time, he didn’t hear the voiceover in his head giving him a translation. He was going to ask Sol, but he disappeared into the next room. After that, he could hear the shutting of doors and windows throughout the house. He walked into the kitchen, but no one was there.

“Can you use a bow, my lord?”

He turned around. Nilsei and Popa carried several weapons bundled in burlap. Enji helped them lay them on the table. Taking a bow, he tried to pull back the string. No way! It was like pulling a bar from an iron fence; it didn’t budge at all.

“Don’t worry, my lord. You can use the spear and leave the bows to Sol and me.”

He felt marveled, then embarrassed and dejected when he compared himself to them—a puny boy like Sol and a delicate girl like Nilsei were able to draw the string on the bows as if it were nothing. Reasoning that they must be able to do it because of magic didn’t make him feel any better.

“What should I do?” He asked, having grabbed the spear he had used against the orc before.

“You will work together with Popa,” Sol whispered. He then pointed to a window, where Popa had positioned herself on one side. Enji approached her, and she gestured to him to stand on the side opposite her.

“When Sol gives us the order, you open that shutter,” she whispered. Enji nodded and studied the shutter latch to make sure he would be able to open it. He looked back to where Sol and Nilsei were preparing their arrows by sticking their points into the wooden floor. He counted about thirty arrows around both of them.

The only one missing, finally, descended the stairs from the upper rooms. Silma carried a staff as tall as she was. The staff had a blue colored crystal on the top end that emitted a faint glow.

Silma positioned herself in the center of the room, facing the window where Popa and Enji stood—Sol and Nilsei on each of her sides with their bows drawn. Silma began an incantation, pointing the staff toward the window. She finished the chant and leveled the staff. At that moment, Sol shouted, “Now!”

Enji pulled the shutter open and stood to the side. He felt the whoosh of hot air when the fireball zoomed past him. He also heard sounds like musical chords and glanced back at the archers. They were shooting the arrows in such a rapid succession that the strings on the bows sounded like musical notes. Wow. So cool! He felt envious. That was a feat not humanly possible.

“Close!” Sol ordered. Enji jumped in place, startled, but managed to latch the shutter. He then turned to Sol, who had his eyes closed and his head bowed down, turning in place as if he were listening to the sounds around him. He stopped and pointed to another window. Enji understood and ran alongside Popa, and they stood on either side of the window. Meanwhile, Silma had been chanting the next spell.

“Now!” Sol shouted when Silma finished her chant. Enji, in unison with Popa, opened the shutters, and another fireball flew past them, followed by a volley of arrows.

“Close!”

This time, Enji reacted faster. He pushed the shutter close and tried to slide the latch. ‘Tried,’ because the latch didn’t move. He was about to put the spear to the side so he could use both hands when the shutter swung in with force. He staggered back, and a monster out of the most demented mind’s nightmares stared at him from the window’s opening.

The thing opened its maw, and a putrid breath reached his nostrils. When the monster roared, Enji screamed back as loudly as he could, repeatedly stabbing it with his spear. Two figures flitted past him, stabbing the beast with their swords, then, a downward arc of steel from a redheaded demon severed its head in one fell swoop.

Sol and Nilsei pushed the shutter and closed the latch.

Enji had fallen on his buttocks and was gawking wide-eyed at the severed head between his legs.