A Village Ruffian's Rise to Lordship [Kingdom Building Fantasy]

Johan Cain awakens in the body of a starving village thug, whose greatest achievement was stealing his own family's winter grain to impress a girl who did not even like him.
During the harshest winter the kingdom has seen. Armed only with an ancient silver coin with daily foresight abilities, he must survive famine, politics, and war before his village disappears forever.

[Current Standing]
[Village Ruffian: Despised by most]

[Today's Luck: Normal]

[Minor Luck]
On the south slope of Small Dark Mountain, a snow hare has run itself into a tree and frozen over the night. Arrive before noon, and it is already yours.

[Medium luck]
Southern Peak of Little Black Mountain, several roe deer have been spotted. Bring a hunting bow, and you might gain something.

[Great Tragedy]
The old wolf king has been driven to the northern foothills. Its pelt would fetch a handsome sum, but it did not become a wolf king by being easy to kill.

Soon, the Cain family chances upon banned combat arts, realizing they might not remain mere villagers forever.



Tags
Medieval Fantasy, Survival, Kingdom Building, Progression Fantasy

....................................

Chapter 1: I can acquire future knowledge!?

The Kingdom of Great Valoria, in the Eighteenth Year of King Prosper's Reign, at the distant Three Hills Village.

The first snow of winter had arrived.

The north wind slammed against the wooden door, making it rattle and creak.

Inside the cottage, a young man lay on the bed, staring blankly at the rafters above.

"As expected, a fool truly meets a miserable end!"

"But you died just like that, leaving all this trouble to me..."

"Winter is almost here, and there is not a single grain left in the house. I have only just come here, and I am already on the fast road to starving to death!"

The young man's name was Johan Cain. In truth, he had once been an ordinary worker from the twenty-first century.

On his way home, he had rushed to save a mother and child who had fallen into the water. He had managed to pull them out, but he himself never came back up.

When he opened his eyes again, he had become a villager of Three Hills Village, carrying the same name and the same face... Although the world seemed different from his previous world.

At first, the chance to live a second life had made him quite happy.

But after he had gone through the memories of the original owner of this body, he could not help but curse in anger.

The original one was eighteen years old. His mother had died young, and at home, he still had an old father, an elder brother, and a sister-in-law, as well as a nephew and niece.

Perhaps because he had been very young when his mother passed away, his father had spoiled him little by little until he was thoroughly ruined. Other children began working in the fields at thirteen or fourteen.

By the time he reached eighteen, he was still idle and lazy, wasting his days away, stealing chickens and dogs like a street thug.

According to the villagers, he was a proper local ruffian.

This year's harvest had been poor, and the family had only a small store of grain left.

His father had gone up the mountain to hunt and had fallen, injuring his leg. Treating that injury had cost a great deal of money, and even now, he still needed a walking stick. The family's days had become tighter and tighter.

Yet just because of a little hint from his goddess, Lady Celine, and the urging of his so-called "brothers," the original owner had stolen the family's winter grain stores, gone to the town to exchange them for a silver hairpin, and intended to give it to Celine as a token of love.

With the remaining money, he had bought ale and meat and eaten to his heart's content with his good brother, Martin Stone.

On the way home, he had gotten drunk and collapsed beside the road outside the village, lying there the whole night in the cold wind and fallen snow.

He had been found yesterday by a passerby and carried back by his elder brother, Jonah Cain.

After lying at home for a day, when he woke up, another Johan Cain was already inside this body.

And that silver hairpin, exchanged for the family's winter grain, had also disappeared without a trace.

Perhaps it had been picked up by some traveler passing by, or perhaps it had simply been lost along the road.

But the hairpin no longer mattered. Even if he found it, pawning it again would not buy back enough winter food for six months.

"A famine year, no grain... People really do die here in winter."

Johan did not know how to deal with this for a moment. Should he imitate the heroes from the stories... make salt, brew ale? But making private salt was forbidden, and brewing ale required a great deal of grain. He was practically starving right now. Where was he supposed to find grain?

Just as his thoughts were running wild, Johan suddenly felt something in his pocket. An ancient silver coin emerged, glowing faintly.

"What is this?"

Seeing that small silver coin, Johan could not help but freeze in shock.

When he had been drowning, it seemed he had vaguely touched something in his confusion... and the texture had felt like a coin back then.

"Could this be the reason I transmigrated?"

Johan opened his eyes wide for a closer look. The ancient silver coin was covered in a faint luminous glow, and above it floated a dim, obscure star.

At the boundary between the light and shadow of the star and the coin, two words were written: [Prophecy].

"Prophecy... and Foresight?"

Johan's breathing suddenly grew rapid. Could this silver coin actually predict the future and help him seek fortune and avoid disaster?

Suppressing the excitement in his heart, Johan reached out and poked the coin.

With a rustling sound, the words [Prophecy] changed to [Foresight].

At once, the coin trembled softly, and three strips of faded parchment slipped out before him.

Small characters appeared on the parchment slips.

[Today's Luck: Normal]

[Small luck: On the southern slope of Small Dark Mountain, a lost rabbit has run into the snow and died. If you go before noon, you might gain something.]

[Mid luck: Several roe deer have been seen on the Southern Peak of Small Dark Mountain. Bring a hunting bow, and you might gain something.]

[Great tragedy: The old Wolf King has been defeated by the new Wolf King and driven to the northern foothills of Small Dark Mountain. If you can obtain its pelt, you can make a handsome profit. But beware of the Wolf King's attacks.]

Chapter 2: Awkward Family Situation.

Johan looked at the writing on the parchment slip before him, unable to hide the excitement in his eyes.

"So this really is foresight. Fortune and misfortune, seen before they come."

With this power, he would no longer have to worry about starving.

More than that, if he could read fortune and misfortune each day, there would be endless ways to use it.

Once his excitement had settled a little, Johan carefully studied the words on the slip.

"A rabbit that ran itself to death? That is free meat."

The first slip alone was enough to bring a smile to Johan's lips.

If this were true, then he might be able to improve his life today.

Next, Johan looked at the second slip.

"Roe deer? There are still roe deer on Small Dark Mountain?"

If he could hunt one, the meat from a single roe deer would last a long time, and the hide could be sold for coin.

It was not a fortune, but it would be enough to support the family for a month or two.

The trouble was, he did not know how to use a hunting bow, and for now, he had no real solution.

His gaze returned to the first slip.

"Better to fetch the rabbit. That suits my current situation best. If I go too late, someone else may find it first."

As for the third slip, hunting the ex-Wolf King and taking its pelt?

An old wolf herd king was still a wolf king.

He would have to be mad to try that.

That would not be hunting. It would be walking straight into a beast's jaws.

Johan did not hesitate long. He reached out and took the first parchment slip. The moment it touched his hand, it turned into a streak of light and sank into his body.

At the same time, the other two slips vanished, and the silver coin grew dull, as though it could not be used again for the moment.

Then a mountain scene appeared in Johan's mind.

A snow hare lay motionless beside a dead tree, as if it had struck itself in the rush and frozen through the night. It was likely already dead.

"Need to go early. The slip said before noon. If someone else gets there first, I will lose it."

He put away the silver coin, rose to his feet, and opened the door to step outside.

But just beyond the threshold stood a small boy, looking as if he had been about to push the door open.

When he saw Johan come out, the boy jumped back in fright, then said timidly, "Uncle Johan, you are awake."

Outside stood his six-year-old nephew, Nolan Cain.

His hair was a little yellowish, and his body was thin and brittle. He had the look of most village children, all of them worn down by long hunger.

Johan felt a pang of pity and instinctively reached out to pat his head.

But Nolan ducked away, then ran a few paces off. "Grandfather said to come to the common room for breakfast!"

Johan awkwardly withdrew his hand. It seemed even his young nephew did not think highly of him in this house.

With some unease, Johan followed Nolan into the common room.

Inside the Cain family's common room, four people sat around a low square table.

At the head sat his father, Edgar Cain. His hair was gray, his face was sallow, and a wooden cane rested beside him. He looked like a man who had never fully recovered from a grave illness.

Yet there was still a hard edge in his eyes.

Edgar Cain had once been a soldier, and after returning from the battlefield, he had become a hunter. Most of the family's current possessions had been earned by him.

He had been injured while hunting in the mountains during the summer and still had not recovered.

On the left sat Johan's elder brother, Adrian Cain, with a square face and a slight hunch in his back.

Beside him sat his sister-in-law, Elspeth Cain. Her eyes were red, as if she had only just finished crying.

There was also a girl seated below them, a little older than Nolan. It was Johan's twelve-year-old niece, Elsie Cain.

Johan stepped inside, lowered his head, and said, "Father. Elder brother. Sister-in-law."

He was ready to take whatever beating or scolding might come.

He had already occupied this body. He would carry the original owner's sins with him.

When Edgar Cain saw him enter, his expression softened.

"In this freezing weather, you slept outside all night. You were not frozen through, were you? Should we send for the physician?"

Adrian also looked at him and said, "Next time, do not return so late. Yesterday Father nearly went out to look for you."

Johan was slightly stunned.

The original owner had sold the family's winter grain for ale and meat, and this was how his father and brother reacted?

No wonder the original owner had grown into such a shameless man.

But that only made Johan feel more guilty.

He said, "Father, elder brother, sister-in-law, I was wrong. I will not do this again."

Edgar, Adrian, and Elspeth all looked at him at once, surprise in their eyes.

As though they could not quite believe those words had come from him.

Admitting fault?

Johan had done far worse before. When had he ever admitted fault?

Edgar's chest rose and fell a little, as if he had been stirred deeply.

"It is good that you know you were wrong. Who does not make mistakes when they are young? Come, sit and eat."

Only then did Johan sit down at the table, where an earthen bowl had already been placed before him.

Inside was millet porridge.

Though calling it porridge might have been generous. It was closer to thin water, with only a few grains resting at the bottom.

Looking around, Johan saw that his own bowl was actually the thickest. In Adrian's and Elspeth's bowls, one could plainly see the bottom.

Johan could not bring himself to eat it. He shook his head.

"I will not eat this."

Adrian looked up and said, "There is nothing else left in the house. Once I can borrow some grain, I will have Elspeth make you a thicker bowl."

Johan took his bowl and poured the millet porridge into his niece and nephews' bowls.

"I ate too much last time. I am not hungry now."

Edgar smiled in relief.

"Little Two has grown sensible."

Then he looked a little apologetically at Elspeth.

"Elspeth, Little Two is still young and already knows he was wrong. Let us wait until he is married before dividing the family."

Before Johan had arrived, Elspeth had been insisting on a family division.

Given everything the original owner had done, her request was more than reasonable. Though Edgar was the head of the household, for the sake of his younger son, he now had to lower his head to his daughter-in-law.

Elspeth wiped her tears and said, "I will listen to Father. But if things go on like this, we truly cannot live."

Selling the family's food for ale and meat was the sort of thing that would earn curses anywhere.

"That is good. That is good," Edgar said with a long sigh of relief.

He knew his elder son well. Even without being told, Adrian's heart had always leaned toward his younger brother.

As for the rest, Edgar simply pretended not to hear it.

Then he poured half of his own millet porridge into Johan's bowl.

"You were out in the cold and lay there all night. At least eat a little."

He added, "This year, the family truly has little left. Once we get through winter and I can go back into the hills, life will be much better."

Johan sighed inwardly.

Clearly, he was the one who had done wrong, yet Edgar acted as though he himself had been the one to owe a debt.

No wonder the original owner had become so spoiled.

And with the injury in his father's leg, eating only half a bowl of thin porridge each meal, could his wound ever truly heal?

No one spoke after that, and they began to drink their porridge.

Nolan finished his in a few mouthfuls, then licked the bowl clean until it shone. Even so, he still frowned and rubbed his stomach, plainly not full.

He turned to Johan and asked, "Uncle Johan, what does roast chicken taste like? Mother said you ate roast chicken yesterday."

"Um... very fragrant."

Johan did not know how to explain it.

In his former life, chicken, duck, fish, and meat had never been anything special.

But here, there were things ordinary people could only dream of.

Though he had said little, Nolan was already swallowing hard. In his heart, he had imagined the taste of roast chicken many times over.

Chapter 3: Into Small Dark Mountain.

Johan patted Nolan's head lightly.

"Next time your uncle goes to the market town, I'll bring you roast chicken."

"Really, Uncle?" Nolan's eyes widened as he grabbed Johan's sleeve tightly.

His niece, Elsie, rolled her eyes.

"You fool. You actually believe Uncle's words?"

"Oh..."

Nolan immediately seemed to remember the things Johan had done before and slowly let go of Johan's sleeve.

Now the boy looked at him with open suspicion.

The old Johan had stolen food from his own niece and nephews more than once. Sometimes, he had even taken the family's provisions just to give them to Lady Celine.

If Johan truly had roast chicken, why would he ever share it with them?

"Elsie, mind your tongue," Adrian said sternly.

Elsie turned her face away with a sulky look but did not argue further.

Watching the two children, Johan could only sigh inwardly at how terrible his reputation truly was.

In this entire house, only his father still treated him warmly.

Still, Johan quietly thought to himself:

"When I return from the mountain, even if there is no roast chicken, there should at least be rabbit stew tonight."

He set down his bowl and looked up.

"Father, I'm going to Small Dark Mountain."

Edgar frowned immediately.

"What are you going there for?"

Adrian also spoke up.

"It just snowed. The mountain paths are dangerous right now. You should not be wandering outside."

"I'm going to see if I can find some game," Johan replied. "If I'm lucky, we might have meat tonight."

Adrian immediately grew irritated.

"Stop talking nonsense. You cannot even use a hunting bow, and now you want to hunt?"

"I'll try my luck. If nothing else, I can bring back firewood."

As soon as he said it, Johan headed toward the door.

"Get back here!"

Adrian rose and grabbed the back of Johan's coat.

Johan tried pulling free twice but could not shake him loose. Unsure how to explain himself, he finally turned and glared at Adrian.

"Let go."

The original Johan had been spoiled since childhood, often eating better than the rest of the family whenever food was available. Though younger, he still stood nearly a head taller than Adrian.

That sudden look in his eyes actually made Adrian step back slightly.

"You..." Adrian clenched his jaw. "Can you stop making Father worry for once?"

Johan looked toward Edgar, who was already trying to push himself upright with his cane.

He could only say quietly,

"Father, I'll return before dark."

Then he stepped outside.

Edgar sighed heavily but still called after him.

"Johan! Wear Father's houndstooth coat. The mountain wind will freeze you stiff."

The coat was thick and heavy, stitched together from winter dog pelts. Edgar had worn it for years while hunting in the hills surrounding the Barony of Greyford. It was far warmer than ordinary wool clothing.

Johan glanced at the coat hanging on the wall.

"I'll return before nightfall."

After speaking, he pulled on the houndstooth coat and stepped out into the freezing wind.

Adrian watched his younger brother disappear into the snow and could only sit back down with a helpless sigh.

Meanwhile, Edgar slowly leaned on his cane and returned to his room, looking weary and defeated.

Nolan stared toward the doorway and quietly asked,

"Father... if Uncle really catches something, will we eat meat tonight?"

The boy still remembered the days when Grandfather could climb the mountains to hunt. Back then, the family occasionally had meat to eat.

Even scraps or boiled entrails had been enough to make the children happy.

But ever since Edgar injured his leg, the family had not tasted meat in a very long time.

Elsie snorted.

"You really are stupid. Even if Uncle catches something, he'll never share it with us."

"Oh... right."

Nolan lowered his head and pouted.

"Uncle really is awful."

Adrian's expression darkened immediately.

"Do not speak about your uncle like that. Have you forgotten your manners?"

"You're still scolding the children?" Elspeth pulled both children into her arms. "You should spend more time in the hills gathering firewood. With winter settling in, the market town will pay decent coin for dry bundles."

"I know," Adrian answered gloomily.

He had already planned to do that.

But right now, what worried him most was borrowing grain.

At this time of year, there was only one household in Three Hills Village willing to lend grain: the reeve's family.

The reeve managed the village on behalf of Baron Greyford, whose manor controlled several nearby villages within the barony.

But the interest demanded on grain loans was harsh, and farmland had to be pledged as collateral.

If the debt could not be repaid after the next harvest, even losing a single strip of land would cripple the Cain family for generations.

After Edgar returned to his room, Elspeth quietly gathered the bowls from the table.

Then she lowered her voice and whispered,

"Do you think... the second son might pawn the houndskin coat? That coat could fetch a fair amount of silver."

Adrian suddenly froze.

"He's not going to the mountain..." he muttered. "He's heading to the market borough!"

At once, Adrian rushed outside to chase after Johan.

But Adrian hurried down the snowy road leading toward Greyford Borough, while Johan was truly making his way toward Small Dark Mountain.

Naturally, the two brothers never crossed paths.

Chapter 4 Martin Stone, the brother who ruined him.

Three Hills Village had earned its name from the three mountain ranges that lay beside it.

Each range stretched farther and rose higher than the last, growing more dangerous the deeper one ventured.

The nearest to the village was Small Dark Mountain.

The villagers often climbed its slopes to hunt, gather deadwood, and search for herbs.

But after years of constant use, the side facing the village had become sparse and barren. Wild game had grown harder and harder to find.

By the time Johan reached the foot of Small Dark Mountain, the sun had already climbed high into the sky, well past midmorning.

He looked around carefully.

The snow from two days ago still covered the ground, untouched in many places. There were barely any animal tracks nearby. It was clearly poor weather for hunting.

Fortunately, Johan had not truly come to hunt.

What he needed today was simply to "wait beneath the tree for the hare."

After confirming the direction shown by the parchment slip, Johan headed deeper toward the southern side of the mountain.

He had not walked far before reaching the sun-facing slope of Small Dark Mountain.

Though the snow here had begun to melt beneath the weak winter sunlight, the place somehow felt colder and gloomier than the rest of the mountain.

As Johan approached, he noticed a scattering of tracks stamped across the snow.

The prints resembled small plum blossoms.

"Rabbit tracks…"

Johan crouched slightly to inspect them.

"Looks like there's a burrow nearby. If I knew how to set snares, I could probably catch more than one."

The thought crossed his mind briefly, but he quickly dismissed it.

There was no helping it. He simply did not know how.

If he wanted to learn trapping, he would have to ask Edgar later.

For now, Johan ignored the tracks and continued toward the large dead tree described in the vision.

Soon, he narrowed his eyes.

A tuft of white fur was barely visible beneath the snow.

Johan hurried forward and grabbed it.

A frozen snow hare was pulled from the drift, stiff as stone.

"Not bad at all."

Johan's face lit up with genuine delight.

There would finally be meat tonight.

At the very least, he could stop looking like a useless fool in front of Nolan and Elsie.

He tied the rabbit to his belt but did not leave immediately.

Instead, his attention returned to the rabbit tracks nearby.

Because of the fresh snowfall, the tracks were unusually clear.

Johan followed them carefully until they disappeared near the roots of a large tree. Beneath a patch of dead yellow grass, he spotted a small burrow hidden in the earth.

"This must be it."

A faint smile appeared on his face.

He picked up a stone and placed it beside the entrance as a marker.

"I'll return tomorrow and figure out how to set a snare."

Afterward, Johan glanced up at the sky.

There was still plenty of daylight left, so he decided to gather firewood before heading home.

In villages like Three Hills, peasants were only permitted to gather fallen branches, deadwood, and dry leaves for fuel.

The forests technically belonged to Baron Greyford.

Cutting down living trees without permission from the baron's reeve could lead to heavy punishment or fines.

Because of this, the lower slopes of Small Dark Mountain had long since been stripped nearly bare. Gathering enough firewood usually meant climbing farther uphill and searching beneath rocky ground and old trees.

For someone unused to the work like Johan, it was exhausting.

After struggling for nearly half the morning, he had only managed to gather a small bundle.

He untied a strip of cloth from his waist and secured the firewood together. Just as he bent down to lift it onto his back, a voice suddenly called out behind him.

"Johan Cain?"

Johan turned.

Walking toward him was a young man around his age.

The fellow wore a patched winter coat riddled with holes, his hands tucked deep inside his sleeves against the cold.

"It really is you," the young man said with surprise. "I heard you nearly froze to death outside the village. Didn't expect to see you up here gathering wood."

"Martin Stone."

Johan recognized him immediately, and his expression cooled slightly.

Martin was two years older than the original Johan and one of his closest drinking companions.

Or rather, one of the parasites attached to him.

From Johan's memories, Martin's favorite pastime was encouraging the old Johan to steal from his own household, then spending the stolen coin on ale and meat together.

More than once, Martin had borrowed money using excuses about sick relatives or unpaid debts, yet not a single copper had ever been returned.

The idea of stealing the family's winter grain to buy a silver hairpin and feast in town had also come from him.

Martin's gaze drifted toward the heavy houndstooth coat Johan wore.

Then he looked down at his own ragged winter clothing, and envy flashed across his eyes.

With a sly grin, he elbowed Johan lightly.

"That coat of yours could fetch a fair amount of silver at the pawnshop," he said. "Freezing weather like this deserves a hot drink. Why don't we head to the market borough and warm ourselves with ale?"

Johan nearly laughed.

Martin truly had not changed at all. The man was already trying to take advantage of him the moment they met.

So Johan smiled faintly and replied,

"That coat of yours should fetch a few silver pennies as well. Why not pawn it first and buy us a jug yourself?"

Martin immediately stiffened.

"What sort of joke is that? This is the only winter coat I own. If I pawn it, what am I supposed to wear?"

Johan no longer cared to waste words with him.

He hoisted the bundle of firewood onto his back.

"If you are not selling it, then move aside. You are blocking the path."

Martin stared blankly for a moment, clearly stunned.

In the past, Johan had treated him better than his own brother.

Before Martin could make sense of it, he suddenly spotted the fat rabbit hanging from Johan's belt.

His eyes immediately brightened.

"You caught a rabbit?" he exclaimed. "Are you planning to roast it or stew it?"

Before Johan could answer, Martin reached out and snatched the rabbit from his waist.

"Gods, this thing is heavy," he said happily. "Must be at least three pounds."

Then he grinned broadly.

"Perfect timing. My wife's been ill these past few days. I'll take this back to help her recover. Johan, you truly are a loyal friend."

As he spoke, he even gave Johan a cheerful thumbs-up.

Johan almost laughed from disbelief.

At what point had the rabbit suddenly become Martin's?

If this had been the old Johan, he might truly have handed it over after a few flattering words.

But the man standing here now was no longer the same fool.

While Martin happily stuffed the rabbit beneath his coat, Johan quietly pulled the woodsman's knife from his belt and pressed the blade against Martin's throat.

Toward the man who had practically driven the original Johan to ruin, he felt not the slightest bit of mercy.

Martin was still grinning when he suddenly felt cold steel against his neck.

The color drained from his face instantly.

"J-Johan..." he stammered. "What are you doing? Don't joke around like that."

"Joke?" Johan said calmly. "Then laugh for me."

"Heh..."

Martin forced his lips to twitch awkwardly, but no real smile came out.

"It's only a rabbit," he said nervously. "Is this really worth it? Weren't you always the one who cared most about brotherhood?"

Chapter 5: Trouble comes from Lady Celine.

Even while speaking, Martin Stone still could not bear to hand the rabbit back.

A snowshoe hare, this fat was enough for several good meals.

In Martin's mind, the rabbit had already become his the moment it touched his hands. How could he possibly return it now?

But Johan slowly pressed the woodsman's knife harder against his throat.

The cold sting of the blade deepened.

Combined with the murderous calm in Johan's eyes, it sent a chill straight through Martin's body.

The younger fool who once became happy after a few flattering words now felt like an entirely different person.

Martin no longer dared to hesitate.

"Take it! Take it back!"

He hurriedly raised the rabbit with stiff hands.

Johan casually snatched it away and tied it once more to his belt.

Only after the blade withdrew did Martin finally breathe again.

But immediately afterward, anger rose in his chest.

In the past, all it took was a few complaints, a little flattery, and perhaps a few words about "brotherhood."

If that failed, mentioning Lady Celine was usually enough.

The old Johan would immediately start acting generous, handing over whatever he had like an obedient fool.

But today, Johan had completely changed.

Not only had he refused him, but he had also drawn a knife.

Martin's pale face quickly turned red with humiliation and anger.

He pointed at Johan and shouted,

"Johan Cain, I truly misjudged you! I treated you like a brother, and you pull a knife over a rabbit?"

Johan finished securing the rabbit and looked down at him coldly.

"You never spend a single copper when we eat or drink together. You constantly look for ways to take advantage of others. You encouraged me to sell my family's winter grain, and now you want to lecture me about brotherhood?"

Martin's confidence immediately weakened.

"That's because my family is poor," he muttered. "If I had money, I'd gladly buy you meat and ale every day."

"Fine then."

Johan stepped forward and grabbed Martin by the shoulder.

"My family has no grain left for winter. Give me half of your household's food stores, and I'll still call you brother."

Martin opened his mouth.

But after mumbling uselessly for several moments, no words came out.

His own family barely had enough to survive winter. How could he possibly hand half of it away?

"Then get lost."

Johan shoved him aside, making Martin stumble several steps backward through the snow.

Then Johan hoisted the firewood onto his back and began walking down the mountain.

People like Martin existed everywhere.

In his previous life, Johan had seen countless men loudly proclaim brotherhood and loyalty while constantly taking advantage of others.

The farther one stayed from such people, the better.

If Martin had truly been a good friend, why would he have pushed the old Johan into stealing his family's winter food?

Johan let out a faint laugh.

"Though... if I had arrived later, this rabbit probably would have ended up in Martin's hands."

"His character may be rotten, but his luck is not bad."

A faint smile tugged at Johan's lips.

"Too bad I reached it first. No wonder the parchment warned me to come before noon."

Fortunately for him, Martin was lazy enough to sleep half the day away.

Still, for one of the village troublemakers, coming up the mountain before midday already counted as unusually hardworking.

By the time Johan reached the entrance to Three Hills Village, many villagers were returning from their own work.

Even during winter, when the fields stood empty beneath the snow, common folk could never truly rest.

There was always firewood to gather, roofs to repair, fences to mend, or tools to patch.

A peasant who remained idle through the winter was asking to starve.

Johan recognized several villagers and took the initiative to greet them.

"Good afternoon, Aunt Mara."

"Uncle Rowan, back from gathering wood?"

The villagers turned at the sound of his voice, then instinctively moved farther away as though avoiding trouble.

One man muttered quietly,

"So the lad's still alive? Shame the cold didn't finish him."

Another snorted.

"Selling winter grain for ale and roast meat. If he were my son, I'd beat him bloody with a stick."

Johan had greeted them politely, but hearing that still made his vision darken for a moment.

It seemed repairing his reputation in the village would not be easy.

So Johan deliberately shifted the firewood on his back, allowing the rabbit hanging from his belt to become visible.

At once, several pairs of eyes widened.

"Gods, that's a fat rabbit!"

"Johan boy, where'd you get that?"

Johan answered with mock annoyance.

"What? Couldn't I have caught it myself?"

Old Rowan laughed loudly.

"You think I'm blind? I know the difference between hunted game and lucky scavenging."

Johan grumbled,

"Up the mountain."

"Well, naturally it came from the mountain," the old man laughed.

Truthfully, Rowan had only asked casually. Even if Johan told him the exact location, there was little chance another rabbit would still be sitting there waiting.

After teasing Johan a little more, the old man suddenly smiled strangely.

"I saw Martha Vale bringing Lady Celine toward your house earlier. Looks like they're planning to break off the engagement. Shouldn't you hurry home?"

"Break off the engagement?"

Johan froze briefly.

The villagers who had been staring at the rabbit immediately forgot about it and began whispering among themselves.

"They're truly ending it?"

"What about the betrothal gifts already given?"

"With Martha Vale's temperament? You think she'll return a single coin?" someone scoffed. "Besides, after what Johan did, who would willingly marry into the Cain family now?"

"Johan boy, hurry home," another villager joked. "Otherwise, all those gifts you gave Lady Celine will go to waste."

Johan listened to the discussions around him.

Yet instead of anger, he felt relieved.

"Breaking the engagement?"

"That's excellent news."

When the original Johan had been seventeen, he had once seen Lady Celine dressed up while wandering through the village.

From that moment onward, he became utterly obsessed.

He had begged Edgar repeatedly to arrange a marriage proposal.

Lady Celine's mother, Martha Vale, was infamous throughout the village.

After her husband died, she fought constantly with her husband's family until she eventually sold off the old family home entirely.

Her temper had grown so fierce over the years that most villagers avoided provoking her altogether.

Because of this, very few men dared approach Lady Celine for marriage.

But the original Johan's foolish obsession gave Martha the perfect chance to profit.

When Edgar visited to discuss marriage, Martha demanded twenty silver crowns as a bride price.

Twenty silver crowns.

Even for ordinary freeholders in the Barony of Greyford, that was a shocking amount.

A peasant household could survive an entire year on far less.

Yet the original Johan had insisted on marrying her no matter what.

In the end, Edgar reluctantly agreed to the engagement and planned to slowly save the silver over time.

Since then, Johan had constantly stolen household goods to give Lady Celine gifts.

A few days earlier, she casually mentioned that all her hairpins were made of wood and wondered aloud how beautiful silver would look instead.

That single sentence had directly led to Johan freezing to death outside the village.

"Twenty silver crowns..." Johan muttered inwardly.

"The original owner truly was bewitched."

The frightening part was not only that Martha dared ask for such an outrageous sum—

But that the old Johan had actually agreed to it.

"Honestly, if they wish to break the engagement, that saves me trouble."

A woman like Lady Celine was the last person he would ever dare marry.

And unlike the original owner, he certainly had no intention of throwing away his life chasing after her.

Chapter 6: Thirty Silver Crowns? Make It Sixty.

At that moment, inside the Cain family's common room, Edgar Cain was speaking with a sharp-faced middle-aged woman.

"Martha Vale, please reconsider," Edgar said wearily. "Johan truly has changed. He went up the mountain to hunt early this morning."

"Hunt?" Martha snorted coldly. "More likely, he stole something again to trade for ale and meat."

Edgar's expression stiffened slightly.

Truthfully, even he did not know whether Johan had really gone to Small Dark Mountain or simply taken the houndskin coat to pawn in the market borough.

He wanted to defend his son, yet he could not find the words.

"There's no need for excuses," Martha said impatiently. "I came here today to end this engagement."

"But..." Edgar tightened his grip on the cane. "We already agreed back then. We even paid betrothal silver."

Martha's eyes widened immediately.

"What agreement?" she snapped as she slapped the table loudly. "The agreement was for twenty silver crowns as a bride price. Where is the rest of the silver? No bride price means no marriage!"

Edgar tapped his cane against the floor.

"Martha, let us discuss this properly. Breaking the engagement now will not help Lady Celine's reputation either. Surely there is still room to negotiate."

"Negotiate?" Martha sneered. "With a son like yours, any girl who marries into this family would suffer."

Then she suddenly paused.

"Though... considering we are fellow villagers, perhaps it is not entirely impossible."

Edgar's tired eyes immediately brightened.

"Please, tell me your conditions."

Martha leaned back proudly.

"The marriage can continue."

"But you must add more silver."

Edgar coughed violently.

"More?"

Twenty silver crowns were already an impossible burden for a peasant family.

And now she wants even more?

Still, Edgar also understood the situation clearly.

After Johan sold the family's winter grain for drink and meat, few households in Three Hills Village would willingly marry their daughter into the Cain family.

Aside from Martha Vale, who cared more about silver than reputation, nobody else would even consider it.

"How much?" Edgar finally asked through clenched teeth.

"Thirty silver crowns."

Martha spoke calmly, as if naming an ordinary amount.

"Bring thirty silver crowns, and I'll personally see to it that Celine marries your son."

"Mother!"

The young woman seated beside her finally cried out in protest.

Clearly, Lady Celine seemed unwilling to marry Johan Cain.

Edgar felt his chest tighten painfully.

Thirty silver crowns...

That was the sort of bride price wealthy merchants or minor noble retainers paid when arranging marriages in larger market towns.

How could a peasant household possibly afford it?

Edgar's cheeks trembled.

After a very long silence, he finally spoke.

"Fine."

"One year from now, I will bring the silver."

"Father!"

Elspeth, who had been quietly pouring water nearby, could no longer remain silent.

"Father, thirty silver crowns? Where are we supposed to get that kind of money?"

"When I married into this family, I did not ask for a single coin! Over the years, I've already given enough to this household!"

"Enough," Adrian said quickly, trying to calm her.

But even he looked anxious now.

The Cain family could barely save three silver pennies in a good year.

This year's harvest had already failed.

Forget saving money, even surviving winter was becoming difficult.

Where would thirty silver crowns come from?

Edgar slowly exhaled.

"Once spring arrives and my leg recovers, I'll go deeper into the mountain."

Adrian immediately frowned.

"Father... you cannot mean Blackridge Mountain?"

Ordinary hunters only dared remain near Small Dark Mountain.

Blackridge Mountain, farther beyond, was another matter entirely.

That place held wolves, boars, mountain lions, and cave bears.

Entering it alone was nearly suicide.

Even hunting wild boars required several experienced hunters working together.

Yet Edgar merely shook his head tiredly.

"This old body of mine is not worth much anyway."

"If Johan cannot take a wife, how will I face his mother in the next life?"

"Father," Adrian gritted his teeth, "if it truly comes to that, we can sell a few strips of land. But you absolutely cannot go into Blackridge Mountain."

"Sell the land?"

Elspeth immediately shot to her feet like an angry cat.

"Have you gone mad? If we sell the land, what will this family eat?"

"We'll sell half and keep half," Adrian argued. "At least we won't starve."

"Won't starve?" Elspeth shouted. "At this rate, we'll starve before spring even comes!"

As the family argued louder and louder, Martha sat watching from the side with growing satisfaction.

Good.

Very good.

Sell the land.

If the Cain family had not still possessed a few valuable strips of farmland under Baron Greyford's domain, she would never have bothered continuing the engagement at all.

Yet despite the outrageous demand, Edgar had barely tried bargaining.

That could only mean one thing.

The price was still too low.

Martha suddenly felt a little regretful.

Perhaps she should have demanded forty silver crowns instead.

Just as the room descended into complete chaos, the front door opened.

Johan stepped inside.

The arguments immediately stopped.

Edgar's expression softened at once.

"Johan, you're back. Quickly greet Aunt Martha and Lady Celine."

Johan's gaze shifted toward Martha Vale and the young woman seated beside her.

Lady Celine resembled her mother somewhat, though softer in appearance. She had a round face, painted lips, and wore a faint layer of powder on her cheeks.

Compared to ordinary village girls, she did appear more attractive.

But only slightly.

After living in the modern world, Johan honestly found the original owner's obsession difficult to understand.

"So this is the goddess he ruined himself over," Johan thought inwardly.

"His taste truly was questionable."

As Johan looked at her, Lady Celine gave a faint snort through her nose, her face full of disdain.

"Johan Cain," she said coldly, "when are you finally giving me the silver hairpin you promised?"

Johan coughed lightly.

Then he revealed the same foolishly eager smile the original owner often wore.

"Just wait a little longer. I'll definitely get it for you."

Only then did Lady Celine's expression soften slightly, though she still turned her face away proudly.

Johan merely smiled and greeted Martha politely.

When Edgar noticed that Johan was still wearing the houndskin coat, he secretly let out a breath of relief.

He truly had gone to the mountain.

Perhaps the boy really was changing.

"Did you catch anything?" Edgar quickly asked, deliberately glancing toward Martha as if trying to prove himself right. "It's fine if you came back empty-handed. Winter hunting is difficult."

Without speaking further, Johan untied the rabbit from his waist and placed it onto the table.

"Found a rabbit."

The moment Lady Celine saw it, her eyes widened.

"What a large one!"

Then she unconsciously swallowed.

Ever since the money from selling her family's old home had mostly run out, the Vale household's life had become much poorer.

She had not tasted meat in quite some time, either.

Edgar's wrinkled face immediately broke into a broad smile.

"My son truly is capable now! Even catching rabbits!"

He completely ignored the fact that Johan had clearly said he found it.

Then Edgar quickly turned toward Martha again.

"See? Didn't I tell you? Johan has truly changed."

"Later, we'll cut off a rabbit leg for you to take home. Celine has grown thinner since last month."

Martha Vale frowned immediately.

"Only one leg?"

One rabbit leg was nowhere near enough for her liking.

Edgar hurriedly corrected himself.

"Half. You can take half of it home."

Johan did not interrupt.

Instead, he casually asked,

"What were you all discussing before I entered? I heard shouting from outside."

"Nothing important," Edgar answered quickly. "Just marriage matters. You needn't concern yourself."

But Elspeth could no longer hold back.

"It's because everyone heard about you selling the family's grain for ale! The bride price's gone up to thirty silver crowns now!"

"Enough," Adrian quickly cut her off.

Johan frowned deeply.

Then he slowly shook his head.

"No. Impossible."

Elspeth's eyes brightened instantly.

Had Johan finally started considering the family's situation?

The old Johan never cared how much silver was demanded as long as he could marry Lady Celine.

"Johan," Edgar warned nervously, "you just returned from the cold. Go warm yourself inside first."

Then he forced a smile toward Martha and Celine.

"Celine is beautiful. Thirty silver crowns is understandable. Not too much. Not too much at all."

Suddenly, Johan clapped his hands together.

"Exactly, Father!"

He looked directly at Martha and Celine.

"Lady Celine is so beautiful. How could thirty silver crowns possibly be enough?"

"It should be sixty."

The entire room fell silent.

Edgar nearly blacked out.

"Sixty?!"

Even if they sold every strip of land the family owned, they still could not gather that amount.

At that moment, Edgar truly felt his son had been completely enchanted by this woman.

Meanwhile, Lady Celine finally looked at Johan properly.

This time, there was clear satisfaction in her eyes.

Like a noblewoman granting favor to a servant, she said proudly,

"When you finally give me the hairpin, I may allow you to walk beside me through the village once."

Chapter 7: You Insulted Me? Then the engagement is over.

"Gods above..."

Johan inwardly felt pity for the original owner of this body.

The fool had nearly emptied his family's entire livelihood for Lady Celine, yet being allowed to merely walk beside her through the village was treated like a grand reward.

From the memories lingering in his mind, he doubted the old Johan had even held her hand before.

Still, outwardly, Johan maintained the same lovestruck expression.

The real performance had only just begun.

Edgar was already so angry that he slammed his cane repeatedly against the floor.

"Adrian! Take your brother inside immediately!"

Adrian quickly stood and grabbed Johan's arm.

"Come on," he muttered. "Father's room still has a fire burning. Go warm yourself."

"Wait."

Martha Vale suddenly raised her hand, her sharp eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

"I think little Johan is absolutely right."

"Thirty silver crowns truly is too little."

"It should be sixty."

Edgar's face instantly stiffened.

His lips twitched.

"Lady Martha... Please do not joke like this. Where would a peasant family ever find sixty silver crowns?"

"That is your problem, not mine," Martha replied coldly. "If your son wishes to marry my daughter, then that is the price."

She folded her arms proudly.

"Think carefully. Besides my Celine, who else in this entire village would willingly marry your useless son?"

Cold sweat began forming across Edgar's forehead.

After a long silence, he lowered himself slightly and spoke in a placating tone.

"How about fifty?"

"If I can recover by spring... if I can still enter Blackridge Mountain... Perhaps... perhaps it can be managed."

He had already begun calculating desperately in his mind.

Two wild boars.

Several good pelts.

Perhaps selling three strips of farmland beneath Baron Greyford's estate.

If fortune favored him, maybe it would barely be enough.

No matter what, he could not allow his younger son to remain unmarried forever.

Martha slowly scanned the room, as though searching for any remaining wealth she could squeeze from the Cain family.

Finally, she nodded.

"Fine. Since we are fellow villagers, fifty silver crowns it shall be."

"But my daughter will wait only one year."

"If you cannot gather the bride price within a year, she will marry another man."

"Fine..." Edgar said bitterly. "One year."

Beside him, Elspeth stood frozen.

"Fifty silver crowns..." she muttered blankly. "They've gone mad. Completely mad."

Even Adrian looked pale.

The Cain family could not save even three silver pennies in an ordinary year.

This winter they were struggling just to survive.

How could they ever gather fifty silver crowns?

Yet at that very moment, Johan suddenly smiled brightly.

"That's right," he said cheerfully. "Fifty silver crowns sounds much more appropriate."

"How else could someone worthy of Lady Celine be married?"

Then he casually pointed toward the rabbit on the table.

"And dividing that rabbit would be troublesome. Aunt Martha may as well take the whole thing home."

Martha's eyes nearly lit up.

So the boy really had realized his mistake and was trying desperately to please her now.

With how obsessed he was with her daughter, she could probably squeeze endless benefits out of him in the future.

Still, she deliberately kept a stern expression.

"At least you're finally acting sensible," she said proudly.

"But remember this, Johan Cain. Even with fifty silver crowns, my daughter marrying a village thug like you is still doing you a favor."

"In all of Three Hills Village, besides Celine, who else would willingly marry you?"

As she spoke, Martha casually reached for the rabbit.

But the moment her fingers touched it, she realized it would not move at all.

Her expression changed slightly.

She slowly looked up and saw Johan staring down at her with an icy, murderous gaze.

The warm and foolish smile from moments ago had vanished entirely.

Martha instantly felt a chill crawl down her spine.

"You..." she stammered. "What are you doing?"

Johan's voice turned deathly cold.

"What did you just call me?"

Martha stiffened her neck stubbornly.

"What did I say? I said you're a village thug. Am I wrong?"

"You called me a thug?"

Johan's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Aunt Martha should know something about me."

"I hate being called that more than anything."

"You insult me like this..."

"Then this engagement is over."

The entire room froze.

Martha's mouth hung open in complete disbelief.

Moments ago Johan had eagerly agreed to fifty silver crowns and acted utterly obsessed with Celine.

How had he suddenly changed his mind over a single insult?

Besides, everyone in the village already called him a thug and wastrel behind his back.

Why would hearing it to his face matter so much?

Edgar quickly tried to calm things down.

"Johan, calm yourself! You cannot speak to your future mother-in-law this way."

Hearing Edgar support her, Martha's courage immediately returned.

"What's wrong with calling you a thug?" she snapped angrily. "Everyone knows you are one! Speaking to me like this, do you still think my daughter would…"

BANG!

Before she could finish, Johan slammed the woodsman's knife onto the table.

The loud crash made Martha nearly jump out of her skin.

Her words died in her throat instantly.

Johan slowly leaned forward.

"Good," he said coldly. "You're still saying it."

"Then maybe I should kill you today."

The moment she saw the knife, Martha's face turned pale.

No matter how fierce she usually acted, she knew men like Johan truly could snap and kill someone in anger.

Village wastrels were the most dangerous when cornered.

"Madman! You mad little beast!"

Martha grabbed Lady Celine's arm and stumbled backward toward the door.

"Don't think I'll ever marry my daughter to you now!"

Even after retreating outside, she still shouted angrily:

"Just wait! If you come begging later, fifty silver crowns won't be enough anymore!"

Seeing Johan suddenly step forward as if to chase them, Martha shrieked and dragged Celine away through the snow as quickly as possible.

Edgar panicked and hurried after them with his cane, terrified something truly terrible would happen.

But Johan only chased them a few steps before calmly stopping.

Once the mother and daughter had disappeared down the road, he simply turned around and walked back inside.

There was not the slightest trace of anger left on his face.

Adrian stared blankly.

"You... were pretending?"

Johan set the woodsman's knife down and laughed.

"Of course I was pretending."

"People in this village call me a thug every day. If I got angry every time, I'd die from rage before winter ended."

Edgar stared at him helplessly and sighed deeply.

"What are we supposed to do now? After today, even fifty silver crowns probably won't satisfy them anymore."

Johan helped Edgar sit back down.

"Father, how many years would it take this family to save fifty silver crowns?"

"What's the point of selling our land and emptying the whole household just to marry a woman?"

Elspeth finally regained her senses and spoke uncertainly.

"But... just moments ago you were saying sixty silver crowns sounded reasonable."

Honestly, she had thought Johan had completely lost his mind.

Now she simply thought he might actually be insane.

Johan laughed lightly.

"That mother and daughter took our gifts, raised the price again and again, and still expected us to kneel in gratitude."

"I was only playing with them."

He leaned back slightly.

"After today, they may still try demanding fifty silver crowns from future suitors."

"But among ordinary folk in this barony..."

"I doubt many men will agree to such madness."

Elspeth covered her mouth as realization dawned on her.

"What do you mean not many?" she laughed. "Forget this village, even within a hundred miles under Baron Greyford, I've never heard of a peasant girl demanding fifty silver crowns."

Adrian, slower to understand, finally blinked in realization.

"If Lady Celine remains unmarried after a few years..." he muttered, "she'll probably blame her mother for the rest of her life."

Fifty silver crowns.

A marriage ruined over a single sentence.

Martha Vale would likely regret today forever.

And Lady Celine probably would as well.

Johan simply spread his hands.

"That has nothing to do with me."

Edgar shook his head helplessly.

"You truly are full of wicked ideas."

"You may feel satisfied today, but where will you find a wife in the future?"

Johan grinned.

"Father, a proper man does not fear lacking a wife."

"Besides..." he added calmly, "even if I had married Lady Celine, with our family's current wealth, could we truly have kept a woman like that satisfied?"

Edgar only sighed again, clearly unconvinced.

With Johan's current reputation in Three Hills Village, the old man already considered it fortunate if anyone agreed to marry him at all.

Just then, Nolan and Elsie suddenly burst into the room together.

"Father! Mother!"

"We heard Uncle Johan caught a rabbit!"

Chapter 8: The Persona Cannot Change Too Quickly.

Elspeth pointed toward the rabbit resting on the table.

"It's right there."

The moment Nolan saw it, his eyes widened.

He immediately rushed forward and hugged the rabbit tightly.

"Gods, it's huge! We're eating meat tonight!"

"What meat?" Elspeth quickly interrupted. "That rabbit should be traded for grain."

Even when Edgar had still been healthy enough to hunt regularly, most game was usually sold or exchanged for food stores.

At best, the family kept the organs or scraps that merchants would not buy.

But Johan shook his head.

"Let's eat it ourselves."

He glanced toward Edgar.

"Father needs proper food while recovering, and Nolan and Elsie are still growing."

"I'll find more game later and trade that for grain."

Truthfully, Johan was simply tired of drinking watery millet porridge every day.

It filled the stomach for a while, but it never truly satisfied hunger.

Elspeth hesitated and looked toward Edgar.

Since the family had not yet divided their household, the old man still made the final decisions.

Edgar waved his hand tiredly.

"Johan caught it. If he wishes to eat it, then we eat it."

After everything that had happened today, he no longer had the energy to care about a single rabbit.

"Alright."

Elspeth nodded heavily, unable to stop herself from smiling a little.

The children had not eaten proper meat in months.

Even if Johan took most of it himself, letting the children taste meat again would still make her happy.

She carried the rabbit outside to skin it, while Nolan and Elsie hurried after her excitedly.

Meanwhile, far down the snowy road, Martha Vale was still dragging Lady Celine away from the Cain household.

They only stopped once the house had disappeared from sight.

Even then, Celine still seemed dazed.

"Mother," she cried out suddenly, "the rabbit! We forgot the rabbit!"

"What rabbit?" Martha snapped irritably.

"Johan said he was giving it to us!"

Martha almost laughed from anger.

"Are you still dreaming? That lunatic nearly pulled a knife on us! How could he possibly still hand over the rabbit?"

"But I wanted meat..." Celine complained bitterly.

Then she glared at her mother.

"This is all your fault. Why did you have to keep calling him a thug?"

Martha planted her hands on her hips.

"What was wrong with saying it? He is a thug. The whole village knows it."

"Fifty silver crowns..." Celine muttered bitterly. "Fifty..."

She held up all five fingers in front of her face.

"I've never even seen that much silver in my life."

Martha quickly lowered her daughter's hand.

"What are you worried about?"

She spoke confidently.

"Do not look at how arrogant he acted today. Once he realizes no other woman will marry him, he'll come crawling back himself."

"Tomorrow morning I'll speak with a matchmaker."

"When Johan hears another family is considering you, he'll panic and come begging for forgiveness."

"Really?"

"Of course."

Martha smirked proudly.

"And next time, we won't settle for fifty silver crowns."

"We'll ask for sixty."

"Anything else you want, he'll hand over as well."

"Just keep him hanging like before."

Celine's eyes slowly brightened as she imagined it.

At last, a smile returned to her face.

"Then what are we eating tonight?"

"There's still a little lard left at home," Martha muttered. "I'll make lard rice."

Only then did Celine reluctantly stand up and continue home.

Yet even now, she could not stop thinking about the rabbit stew.

Part of her even wondered whether Johan might save some and secretly bring it to her tomorrow when he came apologizing.

...

Meanwhile, back at the Cain household, the atmosphere had improved greatly.

After realizing the family no longer needed to gather fifty silver crowns for Johan's marriage, Elspeth suddenly found him much more pleasant to look at.

She skillfully cut apart the rabbit and stewed it in a clay pot.

Before long, she carried the steaming dish into the common room and set it onto the table.

"Come quickly," she called while rubbing her cold ears. "It's ready."

"So fragrant!"

Nolan had already been sitting by the table waiting impatiently.

The moment the rabbit stew arrived, he leaned forward and inhaled deeply.

Unable to resist, he reached out toward the bowl—

only for Adrian to smack the back of his hand lightly with his chopsticks.

Nolan quickly withdrew his hand and looked pitifully toward Edgar.

"Grandfather eats first," he muttered obediently.

Edgar chuckled softly and picked up the wooden ladle.

But before he could serve himself, Johan suddenly stood up and placed two large pieces of rabbit meat directly into Edgar's bowl.

"Father, your leg still hasn't healed. Eat more."

Then Johan ladled soup and meat into Adrian's and Elspeth's bowls as well.

"Brother, sister-in-law, you both work hardest in this family. You should eat more too."

Elspeth instinctively tried to pour some back.

"No, no, this is enough for me. I can just drink the broth."

"Eat it," Johan replied casually. "There'll be more tomorrow."

Then he turned toward the children and picked up a rabbit leg.

"Who wants this?"

"Me! Me! Me!"

Nolan immediately thrust forward his bowl excitedly.

"Hold on," Johan said slowly. "Who was speaking badly about me earlier?"

Nolan instantly shouted,

"Second Uncle is the best! Second Uncle is amazing!"

Johan laughed loudly.

At last, he had restored a little dignity in front of his nephew.

He happily placed the rabbit leg into Nolan's bowl before looking toward Elsie.

At that moment, Elsie sat with her head lowered, gripping her bowl tightly with both hands.

Her lips remained pressed together awkwardly.

Originally, Johan wanted to tease her a little too.

But after seeing her expression, he remembered that twelve-year-old girls already cared greatly about pride and embarrassment.

So instead, he smiled inwardly and placed the largest hind leg into her bowl.

"Elsie works hard every day helping the family."

"She deserves the biggest piece."

Only then did Elsie finally loosen her grip slightly.

"Thank you... Uncle Johan," she said quietly.

"Eat well," Johan replied. "There's more if it isn't enough."

After distributing the food, silence suddenly fell across the table.

Aside from Nolan's loud chewing, nobody spoke.

Edgar, Adrian, and Elspeth all stared at Johan as though they had seen a ghost.

Was this really the same Johan Cain from before?

Johan calmly pulled the remaining bowl of stew toward himself.

"Alright," he announced. "The rest belongs to me now."

Edgar and Adrian immediately relaxed.

Good.

That sounded much more like the Johan they knew.

Meanwhile, Johan sighed inwardly.

"This wastrel persona cannot disappear too quickly."

Otherwise Edgar and Adrian might truly start believing he had been possessed by spirits and drag him before the village priest for an exorcism.

...

Although Johan had insisted on cooking the entire rabbit, Elspeth ultimately could not bear to waste everything at once.

In the end, she only stewed half.

Even so, everyone at the table still received a few good pieces of meat and several bowls of broth.

Johan himself felt strangely emotional.

At last, he was finally eating real meat instead of watery millet porridge thin enough to reflect his face.

Still, he could not help wondering how rabbit stew without proper seasoning would taste.

There was no pepper.

No garlic.

No onions.

Not even enough salt.

Johan cautiously raised the bowl and took a sip.

Then his eyes widened.

Sweet.

Rich.

Fragrant.

The intense hunger and protein starvation of this body transformed the simple stew into something unbelievably delicious.

In his previous life, Johan could never have imagined unseasoned soup tasting this good.

After the first sip, he no longer hesitated and immediately tore into the meat.

It was delicious too.

Though the rabbit looked large, there was not actually much meat on it. Most of the flesh clung tightly to the bones.

By the second piece, Johan could already taste a faint gamey smell.

Still, compared to starvation, it felt heavenly.

"Honestly," Johan muttered inwardly, "fried rabbit with spices would still taste better. Stewing just isn't the same."

The bigger issue was that rabbit meat carried little fat, meaning it did not truly fill the stomach for long.

After eating two pieces, Johan pushed the bowl away dramatically.

"Still nowhere near as good as roast chicken," he declared lazily. "Anyone else want the rest?"

"Mmm!"

Nolan raised his hand even before swallowing what was already in his mouth.

Elspeth immediately smacked his hand down and redistributed the remaining meat herself.

The rabbit stew carried very little grease, yet it was still the best meal the Cain family had eaten in more than half a year.

Once the meat was gone, even the remaining oil and broth were not wasted.

Millet porridge was poured into the clay bowl and swirled around so every last drop of grease could be drunk clean.

Finally, Elspeth carefully gathered the bones aside as if they were treasure.

Chapter 9: Asking for the Land Deeds in the Middle of the Night.

After supper, the Cain family gradually returned to their own rooms.

Lying beneath the blankets, Elspeth quietly whispered to Adrian,

"Husband... Johan really does seem to have changed a little."

Though he still hogged the clay washbasin and remained somewhat lazy and spoiled—

at least he had brought the rabbit home.

At least the family had finally eaten meat again.

Adrian's voice carried far more confidence than it had earlier that morning.

"Of course he's changed."

"If the old Johan had found a rabbit, he would've sold it immediately for ale."

"But today he brought it back for the family to eat. Isn't that proof enough?"

Elspeth sighed softly.

"I saw Father wiping his eyes when Johan distributed the meat."

Then her expression turned uneasy.

"But the change happened so suddenly that it honestly frightens me a little."

"Frightens you?" Adrian frowned sleepily.

Elspeth suddenly sat upright beneath the blankets.

"What if Second Brother is only pretending?"

"What if he's trying to sweet-talk Father into giving him the land deeds?"

Her voice grew lower.

"Those fields are the only valuable thing this family still owns."

The Cain family's farmland had all been earned by Edgar through military service and years of hunting.

The deeds remained in Edgar's possession even now.

Adrian immediately frowned.

"What nonsense are you talking about?"

"Johan isn't that kind of man."

From beneath another blanket nearby, Elsie suddenly poked her head out.

"That's right! Uncle Johan is good now. He'd never do that."

Elspeth immediately clicked her tongue irritably.

"You silly girl. One rabbit leg and you've already been bought over."

Then she nudged Adrian again.

"I'm serious. Maybe you should go check on Father."

"If Father gets confused and hands everything over, at least you could try talking sense into him."

"Talking sense about what?"

Adrian rolled over irritably.

"The land belongs to Father. Even if he gave every field to Johan, what right would I have to complain?"

"Go to sleep."

Elspeth still looked dissatisfied.

"But—"

Before she could continue, Adrian's snores had already begun again.

She could only lie back down angrily.

At almost the same moment, Johan quietly pushed open the door to Edgar's room.

"Father."

A weary sigh sounded from the darkness.

"Mm..."

Edgar slowly sat up from the bed.

Using a fire striker, he carefully lit the small oil lamp beside him.

The faint golden light illuminated his tired face.

Then, after hesitating briefly, Edgar reached beneath his pillow and pulled out a stack of folded parchments.

"These are the family's land deeds," he said quietly.

As he spoke, he separated one of them.

"I'll keep two strips of land for your brother and his family."

"You can take the rest."

Then Edgar looked toward Johan seriously.

"Tomorrow morning, go speak properly with Lady Celine."

"I think the girl truly likes you too. If you soften your attitude and coax her a little, she'll calm down."

Johan stared blankly at the tears gathering in the corners of the old man's eyes.

For a moment, he truly did not know whether to laugh or cry.

Was this old man really handing over the family's remaining property just so his son could continue acting like a lovesick fool?

Before transmigrating, Johan had never been a simp.

And now, after transmigrating, he was still expected to become one?

What kind of cursed fate was this?

Without hesitation, Johan grabbed every single deed from Edgar's hands—

then immediately stuffed them all back beneath the pillow.

"Father, what are you thinking?"

Edgar froze.

"I didn't come here for the deeds," Johan continued helplessly. "I actually came to ask you something."

Edgar had already begun despairing the moment Johan grabbed the documents.

He was even thinking about how to explain everything to Adrian tomorrow morning.

Yet now Johan had shoved the deeds back instead.

The old man stared blankly at him.

"Then... what did you come for?"

Johan scratched his head awkwardly.

"I wanted to learn how to set snares."

"The kind used for catching rabbits."

Edgar blinked several times in confusion.

"You came into my room in the middle of the night... just to ask about rabbit snares?"

Johan quickly explained,

"When I found the rabbit today, I discovered a rabbit burrow nearby."

"I thought that if I learned how to set traps properly, maybe I could catch more game."

But seeing Edgar staring at him suspiciously again, Johan immediately added another excuse:

"And... carrying game back through the village looks impressive."

That explanation finally sounded believable.

After all, Johan had always cared too much about appearances and reputation.

That personality trait had never changed.

Those wastrels in the village used to manipulate him easily with a few flattering words because of it.

Even stealing food from home began because Johan wanted to look generous and impressive before others.

Edgar slowly nodded.

"If the burrow is active, then yes... you might catch something."

Then he glanced toward the burning oil lamp nearby.

"But we'll talk about it tomorrow morning."

"Lamp oil costs money."

"Oh. Right."

Only then did Johan remember he was no longer living in the modern world.

Most peasants slept shortly after sunset simply to save lamp oil and firewood.

"Alright then," Johan nodded. "You can teach me tomorrow."

Just as he turned to leave, his eyes suddenly landed on the hunting bow hanging from the wall.

The bow was old but well-maintained.

It was Edgar's treasure.

The tool that had fed the Cain family for years.

"Father," Johan added quickly, "teach me archery too."

He grinned shamelessly.

"Walking through the market borough carrying a hunting bow would look pretty impressive too."

No matter how much Edgar had spoiled Johan before, he had never allowed him to touch the bow.

Yet now, instead of getting angry, the old man nodded repeatedly.

"Yes, yes, I'll teach you."

"Now hurry and go sleep."

Only then did Johan finally leave the room satisfied.

After extinguishing the lamp, Edgar quietly wiped the corners of his eyes in the darkness once more.

For the first time in years, his youngest son had actually taken the initiative to learn hunting and archery.

Even if it was only because he thought hunters looked impressive—

it was still a beginning.

Perhaps, little by little, Johan could truly be guided back onto the proper path.

...

Crossing the courtyard, Johan returned to his own room.

Truthfully, before everything went wrong, the Cain family had once lived rather well compared to most peasants in Three Hills Village.

They owned three side rooms, enough for both brothers even after dividing the household.

Edgar had survived war, earned reward silver from the crown, and later supported the family through hunting.

Otherwise, he never would have dared agree to the original twenty silver crown bride price.

But after Johan squandered the family's savings and Edgar injured his leg, the household steadily declined until they could barely feed themselves.

"Good thing I arrived when I did," Johan muttered quietly while lying down.

"If the original owner stayed in control, this entire household would probably collapse within two years."

Meanwhile, next door, Adrian slowly opened his eyes.

The "snoring" from earlier immediately stopped.

He stared silently at the pale moonlight beyond the window.

"So... Father really did take out the land deeds tonight."

Adrian slowly turned over beneath the blankets.

"How much did he give Johan?"

After a long silence, he sighed inwardly.

"If Father truly gives everything away..."

"Then once spring comes, I'll just hire myself out as a farmhand somewhere."

"At least I can slowly earn enough so the family won't starve."

Chapter 10: The Pheasant Nest

Naturally, Johan had no idea that nearly everyone in the household spent the night worrying about him for different reasons.

After returning to his room, he lay down on the bed and summoned the ancient silver coin once more.

Most of its surface now glowed with pale silver light, though a small section near the top remained dull and gray.

"At this rate, it should recover completely by tomorrow," Johan murmured.

Originally, he had considered stubbornly staying awake until the relic fully recovered—

but there was truly nothing else to do in this world once night fell.

No games.

No internet.

No entertainment.

After staring at the dark ceiling for a while, Johan eventually drifted off to sleep.

...

When he woke again, sunlight was already shining through the cracks in the wooden wall.

The morning sky was fully bright.

Johan immediately checked the silver coin.

Sure enough, the faint glow now covered the entire surface.

The relic had fully recovered.

He was just about to activate its power—

but suddenly stopped himself.

"No. Better learn how to make snares first."

"If I receive another time-limited prophecy and can't use it properly, that'd be a waste."

Johan climbed out of bed and headed into the courtyard to wash himself.

Elspeth had already risen early and prepared breakfast.

Afterward, she returned to wake Nolan and Elsie.

The moment Nolan sat upright beneath the blankets, he immediately shouted,

"Are we eating meat again today?!"

Elspeth rolled her eyes while helping him into his clothes.

"I boiled vegetable mash using the broth from yesterday's rabbit bones. It smells good enough."

"I want some! I want some!"

Hearing this, Johan felt slightly uncomfortable.

Those rabbit bones had already been gnawed nearly clean yesterday, yet they were still being boiled again for flavor.

Nothing in this household went to waste.

Though he understood why, it still left him feeling strange.

Sitting at the table, Johan looked at the bowl of boiled wild greens floating in thin oily broth.

In the end, he still could not bring himself to eat much of it.

Instead, he lifted the millet porridge and took a large gulp—

then nearly spat it right back out.

The rough grains scraped against his throat unpleasantly.

"When I finally earn some money," Johan thought bitterly, "I'm getting proper bread or refined grain. This stuff is awful."

Across the table, Elspeth quietly kicked Adrian beneath the table.

Adrian ignored her completely and kept eating.

Elspeth finally gave up and turned toward Edgar directly.

"Father," she asked casually, "what exactly did Second Brother do in your room last night? I even saw you lighting the oil lamp."

Edgar slowly swallowed his porridge before answering calmly.

"He said he found a rabbit burrow while collecting that rabbit yesterday."

"He wanted me to teach him how to make snares."

Elspeth blinked.

"That's all?"

"What else did you think?" Edgar replied indifferently while picking at the boiled greens with his spoon.

Though he himself had also been shocked last night, that did not stop him from pretending to remain calm now.

At the table, Adrian quietly relaxed.

Even if he claimed otherwise, he obviously still worried about the land deeds.

Meanwhile, Nolan only caught one important word.

"Rabbit?"

The boy instantly lifted his head excitedly.

"Second Uncle, are you going to catch more rabbits?"

"I'm only setting traps," Johan answered casually. "Doesn't mean I'll actually catch anything."

Adrian looked up.

"Want me to come along? I could gather firewood while we're there."

Johan immediately waved him off impatiently.

"No need. I'm only wandering around."

He still had to maintain his usual personality somewhat.

Elspeth finally looked fully relieved.

"That's good enough already," she said happily. "I'll trade the remaining rabbit meat and hide for grain today. It should keep us fed another couple of days."

Then she looked toward Adrian.

"You don't need to rush out borrowing grain anymore."

Adrian nodded.

"Good."

Borrowing grain meant using farmland as collateral.

Unless absolutely desperate, nobody wanted that kind of debt hanging over their heads.

...

After breakfast, Edgar called Johan over enthusiastically.

"Come here. I'll teach you how to make a proper snare."

Whether because of the rabbit stew or simply because his mood had improved, Edgar looked healthier than yesterday.

He patiently began explaining the process.

"For small animals like rabbits, the trap itself doesn't need to be complicated..."

By the time Johan learned enough to understand the basics, nearly half the day had passed.

After helping Edgar back into his room, Johan immediately returned to his own.

Then he summoned the silver coin again.

Its pale glow flickered softly in the dim room.

Johan gently tapped it with his finger.

Clatter.

Three parchment slips emerged from the coin.

[Small Luck]: At the foot of Small Dark Mountain, several pheasants gather together beneath the bushes for warmth. Approach near evening, and you may gain something.]

[Mid Luck]: Roe deer remain active along the southern slopes of Small Dark Mountain. Bring a hunting bow, and you may succeed.]

[Great Tragedy]: The former Wolf King has retreated to the northern slopes of Small Dark Mountain. Its pelt would sell for a great fortune, but beware the Wolf King's attacks.]

Johan blinked.

Two of the prophecies had not changed at all.

"So the roe deer and the Wolf King are still there," he thought.

Then his eyes narrowed slightly.

"Just wait until I learn archery properly."

"That wolf pelt alone must be worth dozens of silver crowns."

Even the roe deer should fetch at least one or two silver crowns in the market borough.

Unfortunately, seeing the opportunity while lacking the skill to claim it made Johan's heart itch terribly.

Still, after a brief struggle, he forced himself to focus on the pheasants instead.

At the moment, prey requiring little skill suited him best.

Every winter, wild pheasants gathered together beneath bushes and dead grass to share warmth.

A single nest could contain three or four birds at once.

If he managed to catch the entire group, the family could eat properly again tonight.

The problem was that once startled, pheasants scattered in every direction like an explosion.

Trying to catch them afterward was almost impossible.

"Should I bring Adrian along?" Johan wondered briefly.

But after thinking about it, he shook his head.

First, he could not allow his personality to change too quickly.

Second, he had no believable way to explain how he discovered the pheasant nest.

Besides, he was not especially greedy.

The relic would recover again tomorrow anyway.

Johan picked up the Minor Fortune parchment.

The moment it touched his hand, it dissolved into light and merged into his body.

Instantly, the location of the pheasant nest appeared clearly within his mind.

...

Johan headed into the courtyard and gathered several sturdy bamboo poles together with a braided grass rope.

The snare Edgar taught him was simple.

A looped rope noose connected to bent bamboo.

Once a rabbit stepped into the loop, the tension released and hoisted the animal into the air.

Primitive.

But effective.

After preparing everything, Johan was just about ready to leave when suddenly—

"Second Uncle!"

Nolan appeared from nowhere and wrapped himself around Johan's leg.

"Are you going to catch rabbits again?"

"Yes."

"Take me with you! I can catch rabbits too!"

After yesterday's rabbit stew, Nolan's attitude toward Johan had completely reversed.

Now the boy clung to him constantly without fear.

Johan glanced toward the wall and noticed Elsie quietly peeking around the corner as well.

Her eyes were full of curiosity.

The pheasant nest lay near the foot of the mountain, not especially dangerous.

And if the children helped block the birds after they scattered...

Perhaps they could catch an extra pheasant or two.

Seeing Johan hesitate, Nolan immediately sensed hope.

"Please! Please take me!"

He bounced excitedly while tugging Johan's sleeve.

At last, Johan sighed.

"Fine."

"But if you come, you listen to everything I say."

"If you don't obey me, I'm sending you straight home."

"Alright! We'll listen!"

Nolan nodded furiously.

Johan then looked toward Elsie.

"What about you?"

Elsie immediately stepped out from behind the wall.

"I'll come watch Nolan so he doesn't cause trouble."

Nolan instantly turned around angrily.

"I'm already six! I don't need watching!"

"Ah! Sister, why are you pinching me?!"

Johan smiled briefly at the siblings.

then immediately forced his face stiff again.

"Quiet."

"Oh..."

Chapter 11: Catching Pheasants, A Fine Harvest.

"Will this really catch rabbits?"

Nolan sniffled while staring suspiciously at the snare Johan had just finished setting beside the rabbit burrow.

Johan scattered a few grains of millet in front of the looped rope and nodded.

"Maybe. If a rabbit wanders through here and steps into the snare, it'll get hoisted straight into the air."

The bamboo pole he selected was thick and sturdy, half-buried into the frozen soil. Even a heavy rabbit would struggle to break free once trapped.

After setting three snares along the rabbit trails he had spotted earlier, Johan finally stood up and dusted off his hands.

Then he looked back toward the two children.

"Gather some firewood. If nothing else happens, we'll head back down before dark."

"Ah?" Nolan sounded instantly disappointed. "But Second Uncle, we haven't even seen a rabbit yet!"

Johan shrugged.

"Tomorrow I'll bring you back to check the traps. Maybe then you'll see one alive."

Only after hearing that promise did Nolan finally calm down.

The two children reluctantly began gathering fallen branches and dry twigs nearby.

...

As dusk slowly settled over Small Dark Mountain, Johan finally called the children together and started leading them back down the slope.

When they had climbed the mountain earlier, Nolan and Elsie had both been bursting with excitement.

But after spending half the afternoon gathering firewood in the cold, the two now dragged themselves behind Johan miserably.

Suddenly, Johan stopped.

"Wait."

He crouched slightly.

"Pheasant tracks."

"Where?!"

Nolan instantly rushed over.

Sure enough, near Johan's boots were several clawed prints resembling those of chickens.

"They really are!" Nolan whispered excitedly while scanning the surroundings. "Second Uncle, are there pheasants nearby?"

Just hearing the word pheasant made the boy swallow instinctively.

Elsie bent down as well, trying to examine the tracks more carefully.

But Johan casually covered part of them with his foot.

"They went this way," he said calmly. "Follow me."

Then he immediately headed toward the lower foothills.

The two children hurried after him.

Before long, the three of them arrived at a secluded hollow near the foot of Small Dark Mountain.

The moment they entered, the cold northern wind weakened considerably.

No wonder pheasants liked hiding here for warmth.

After passing through several clusters of dried thorn bushes, Johan finally spotted the patch of shrubs shown in the prophecy.

If nothing had changed, the pheasants should be hiding beneath them.

Nolan lowered his voice excitedly.

"Second Uncle... are they really here?"

"Quiet."

Suddenly, Elsie pointed toward the ground.

"There's a feather!"

A brightly colored pheasant feather lay half-buried in the snow ahead.

Nolan immediately covered his mouth with both hands.

"There really are pheasants here!"

Johan slowly crouched lower and pretended to inspect the surroundings.

Then he pointed toward the bushes ahead.

"Pheasants hate the cold. They're probably huddled together beneath those shrubs."

"Elsie, circle around the left side."

"Nolan, go right."

"When I flush them out, grab whichever one you can."

The two children nodded furiously.

"Go."

Johan carefully crept forward while crouching low.

Nolan and Elsie copied his movements awkwardly as they slowly approached the bushes.

The closer they got, the wider Nolan's eyes became.

Through the branches, he could already see colorful feathers moving beneath the shrubs.

And there was clearly more than one pheasant.

Johan held his breath.

Then suddenly—

He shoved the bushes apart with both hands and lunged forward without hesitation.

CHEEEK!

The pheasants instantly exploded into chaos.

Several birds flapped wildly in all directions.

Johan slammed his body downward immediately.

Something struggled violently beneath him.

At the same time, Elsie copied his movement and threw herself onto another pheasant.

"I got one!"

Meanwhile, Nolan lunged toward a fleeing bird and managed to grab only its tail feathers.

The pheasant instantly tore free.

A clump of feathers remained in Nolan's hands while the bird flapped wildly away into the snow.

Nolan immediately chased after it—

only to trip and crash face-first into the ground.

By the time he scrambled back up, the pheasant was long gone.

"The chicken escaped!"

Nolan stared at the empty snow in horror before bursting into miserable tears.

Meanwhile, Johan stood up holding two pheasants in his hands while another remained pinned beneath his chest.

Three pheasants.

Elsie also stood proudly while gripping her own struggling pheasant tightly by the wings.

The bird pecked several red marks onto her hands.

Frowning stubbornly, Elsie twisted its neck hard.

The pheasant immediately stopped moving.

Johan blinked.

He truly had not expected his quiet little niece to be this fierce.

"Impressive," he said while giving her a thumbs-up.

Then he walked over and helped Nolan back to his feet.

"Enough crying. We're having chicken soup tonight."

As he spoke, he deliberately waved the pheasants before Nolan's face.

At this point, Johan could no longer be bothered maintaining his usual wastrel persona in front of the children.

Nolan sniffled several times before finally calming down.

Still, after looking at the scattered feathers in his hand, he pouted again.

"Some still escaped..."

Apparently this hollow was warm and sheltered enough that seven pheasants had gathered here together.

Despite Johan reacting quickly, he only caught three.

Elsie caught one.

The remaining three escaped into the woods.

"It's fine," Johan said casually. "We'll catch more next time."

Then he led the still-sniffling Nolan back toward the village.

...

Before reaching Three Hills Village, Johan stuffed the three pheasants inside Edgar's heavy houndskin coat.

He took Elsie's pheasant as well, twisted its neck fully, and shoved it beneath the coat too.

After his earlier attempt at improving his reputation failed completely, Johan no longer cared much about appearances.

Honestly, keeping the image of a village ruffian made certain things easier.

At least most people avoided provoking him.

More importantly, during a famine winter like this, meat attracted attention.

Walking openly through the village carrying four pheasants would almost certainly invite trouble.

Even though the coat now looked oddly swollen, it was still easier to explain than openly displaying meat.

As Johan entered the village, several villagers immediately pointed and whispered again.

Johan instinctively tightened the coat around himself.

But after listening more carefully, he realized they were not discussing him this time.

They were talking about Martha Vale and Lady Celine.

Every few sentences, someone would suddenly burst out laughing.

Johan did not bother asking questions.

Instead, he headed home directly.

Before he even stepped through the gate, he heard Elspeth's loud laughter coming from inside the courtyard.

Walking in, he saw her washing bitterroot vegetables while speaking with Adrian nearby.

Johan raised an eyebrow.

"What's so funny?"

Elspeth immediately burst into laughter again.

"You haven't heard?"

"Widow Martha got into a fight with old Granny Edith the matchmaker!"

Chapter 12: One Was Stewed, The Other Fried.

"What happened?"

Johan had already heard villagers gossiping all the way home, so he casually asked.

Elspeth grinned widely.

"Martha Vale invited a matchmaker over first thing this morning. Granny Edith even brought a bachelor from the neighboring village to meet Celine."

"But the moment they sat down, Celine demanded fifty silver crowns as bride price."

Elspeth nearly laughed herself breathless.

"Granny Edith became so furious she told the girl to piss in a basin and look at her own reflection first."

"Martha cursed the old woman back, saying she must've grown eyes on the back of her head instead of her face."

"Then Granny Edith shouted that the whole Vale family bundled together wasn't worth fifty silver crowns."

"And after that?" Adrian added while chuckling, "they started fighting."

"The poor bachelor got dragged into it too."

Elspeth laughed again.

"I heard Martha and Celine lost badly."

Then she lowered her voice dramatically.

"Granny Edith even swore she'd make sure no matchmaker within ten villages would ever arrange a marriage for Celine again."

"And after the matchmaker left," Adrian added, "mother and daughter apparently started fighting each other too."

Johan could only shake his head helplessly.

Originally, he had only mocked them casually.

Yet somehow the mother and daughter truly believed they deserved fifty silver crowns.

Most peasants would never even see that much silver in their entire lives.

Apparently Martha had not been exaggerating when demanding thirty silver crowns before.

She genuinely believed her daughter was worth the price.

Fortunately, none of this had anything to do with him anymore.

The farther he stayed from those two, the better.

...

Only after finishing the gossip did Elspeth notice Nolan pouting miserably behind Johan.

"What happened to him?" she asked. "Did he fall?"

The moment she mentioned it, Nolan immediately burst into tears again.

"The chicken escaped!"

"What chicken?"

"The pheasant! I grabbed its tail but it flew away!"

As he spoke, Nolan opened his hand, revealing the clump of feathers he had stubbornly carried all the way home.

Only then did Johan realize the boy had refused to throw them away.

Seeing the feathers, Elspeth instantly understood.

"What a pity," she sighed. "Why didn't you ask your uncle for help?"

A single pheasant could be traded for nearly a hundred copper coins.

Enough grain to feed the family for days.

Before Nolan could answer, Elsie proudly spoke up.

"Second Uncle caught some."

"I caught one too."

"Only Nolan failed."

At that moment, Johan finally began pulling pheasant after pheasant from beneath the houndskin coat.

The strong smell of poultry nearly made him tear up.

"Pheasants?!"

Elspeth immediately stood.

"There are four!" Elsie announced proudly.

"Four?"

Even Adrian hurried over.

The pheasants now lay completely limp, their necks twisted and eyes rolled white.

"There really are four..." Elspeth murmured in disbelief. "How did you even catch them?"

Normally pheasants could both run and fly.

Unless someone was an exceptionally skilled hunter or archer, catching them was extremely difficult.

Elsie excitedly began explaining everything at once.

"Second Uncle spotted tracks while we were coming down the mountain!"

"He followed them into a hollow, and there was a whole pheasant nest hiding there!"

"Second Uncle caught three all by himself."

"I caught one."

"Only Nolan let three escape."

Hearing that again, Nolan immediately looked ready to cry.

"You found an actual pheasant nest?" Adrian said in surprise.

"That truly is good luck."

"It wasn't luck," Elsie insisted proudly. "Second Uncle was amazing."

Elspeth rolled her eyes.

Her daughter had clearly been completely won over already.

Still, she looked happily toward Johan.

"What do you plan to do with them?"

Though smaller than rabbits, pheasants were more valuable.

A restaurant in the market borough could exchange one pheasant for fifteen pounds of millet in ordinary times.

Even with famine prices rising, each bird still held considerable value.

Four pheasants were enough to keep the family fed for quite a while.

"Eat them," Johan answered as though it were obvious.

"What else?"

"Stew one tonight."

"Tomorrow we'll fry another."

Elspeth's eyebrows immediately twitched.

In the middle of winter famine, who could bear eating an entire pheasant every day?

But remembering Johan's personality, she wisely looked toward Adrian instead.

Adrian cleared his throat.

"Second Brother... we're still short on grain."

Johan blinked as though only now remembering.

"Oh. Then trade the remaining two."

"Anyway, the three of us caught these. We're eating at least two."

The moment he said that, Nolan and Elsie instinctively stepped closer beside Johan.

Their position was very clear.

Johan understood the family's worries.

With no stored grain left, everyone felt anxious.

Still, he absolutely refused to starve himself again.

"Good!" Elspeth agreed immediately.

Even selling only two pheasants would still bring enough grain for several more days.

Besides, it was not like Johan intended to eat them alone.

Tonight everyone would taste meat again.

"I dug up some bitterroot today too," Elspeth added happily. "It'll taste good stewed together."

Adrian nodded.

"Then tomorrow I'll head into the market borough to trade the birds for millet and sell the firewood as well."

Johan looked around.

"Where's Father?"

"Practicing with his bow near the village entrance," Adrian answered.

"He said he needed to stretch his body a little."

Truthfully, Edgar was preparing to teach Johan archery.

"He went out in weather like this?" Johan frowned slightly.

Just then, Edgar himself entered through the courtyard gate.

"What's wrong with the cold?" the old man snorted.

"My body's still strong enough."

He still carried the horn bow across his back.

Yet one glance at his badly limping leg made it obvious the injury had not healed properly at all.

Chapter 13: Stewed Pheasant

According to Edgar's own version of events, he had once encountered a black bear deep within Blackridge Mountain.

The beast chased him halfway down the slope before he injured his leg escaping.

But supposedly, before fleeing, he also shot one of the bear's eyes blind.

Naturally, most villagers believed only the first half of that story.

Even Johan and Adrian remained half-skeptical.

"Grandfather, look!" Elsie called excitedly. "Second Uncle caught pheasants again!"

"Not bad."

Edgar nodded calmly.

"But hunting cannot rely entirely on luck. Don't become arrogant."

"Understood."

Johan's eyes, however, remained fixed firmly on the horn bow hanging behind Edgar's shoulder.

Then Johan casually added:

"Sister-in-law, stew the fattest pheasant tonight. Father needs nourishment."

Edgar's serious expression instantly cracked.

The corners of his mouth twitched upward repeatedly before he forcibly pressed them down again.

"What a smooth-tongued brat..."

Still muttering under his breath, Edgar turned and limped toward the common room.

Only after facing away from everyone did a broad smile finally spread across his face.

Though he suspected Johan was merely flattering him to learn hunting properly, it still made him happy.

...

Elspeth selected the fattest pheasant and immediately began plucking and preparing it.

The remaining three birds were packed beneath snow outside to keep fresh.

One would be eaten.

Two would be sold.

Dinner that evening consisted of millet porridge and a large clay pot of stewed pheasant.

Elspeth also added bitterroot vegetables she had dug up earlier that day.

The moment the steaming pot reached the table, a rich aroma filled the room.

Compared to yesterday's rabbit stew, the smell was far richer.

A layer of golden oil floated across the surface.

This time, even Johan found himself swallowing instinctively.

"Eat," Edgar said happily.

Nolan immediately thrust forward his bowl for Adrian to fill.

Johan tasted the broth first.

The instant it touched his tongue, his eyes widened.

Fresh.

Rich.

Incomparably delicious.

"This tastes incredible," Johan blurted out.

"How did you make it?"

Elspeth looked confused.

"I just added a little extra salt."

Only then did Johan realize yesterday's rabbit stew had barely contained any salt at all.

Now that the family would soon exchange pheasants for grain, Elspeth finally dared use an additional pinch.

That tiny amount of seasoning completely transformed the stew.

"So good!" Nolan shouted after gulping down an entire bowl.

Then he immediately raised the empty bowl again.

Elsie rolled her eyes.

"You didn't even catch a pheasant. Why are you eating the most?"

Nolan's lips immediately trembled.

He looked moments away from crying again.

Without hesitation, Johan grabbed a pheasant leg and dropped it into Nolan's bowl.

"If you don't eat it, I will."

Elspeth glared at Elsie.

"Can't chicken meat keep your mouth quiet for one meal?"

"I caught one myself!" Elsie declared proudly while puffing out her chest.

"Second Uncle even praised me!"

"Fine, fine."

Elspeth laughed and gave the other pheasant leg to Elsie as well.

Johan looked toward Adrian.

"Brother, how are you reaching the market borough tomorrow?"

Three Hills Village lay under the jurisdiction of Greyford Barony.

The nearest market borough was nearly fifteen kilometers away.

The old road had not been repaired in years and became nearly impassable after snowfall.

Only now did Johan fully understand how the original owner managed to collapse drunkenly beside the road after visiting town.

Half of it was likely exhaustion.

"Walking, obviously," Adrian replied.

"I'll leave before dawn and should return before dark."

Carrying firewood across such distance in winter was exhausting work.

Staying overnight in town would cost extra coin for lodging.

Johan originally considered visiting town himself.

But after hearing they would simply walk there and back, his enthusiasm vanished instantly.

Better to wait until they could afford a donkey cart.

"I'm not going tomorrow," Johan said lazily.

"You can wear Father's houndskin coat."

"Alright." Adrian nodded.

Though Johan had changed somewhat, his laziness clearly remained.

Edgar suddenly spoke up.

"Tomorrow you'll start learning archery from me."

"If you learn properly, I'll eventually give you the bow."

"Really?" Johan's eyes instantly brightened.

Edgar snorted.

"You think archery is easy? If you lose interest after two days, don't even dream about touching my bow again."

"I'll study properly," Johan promised immediately.

...

After finishing the pheasant stew, color finally returned to the faces of the entire family.

Even their expressions seemed more lively than before.

While collecting bowls afterward, Elspeth could not stop smiling.

Later that night, after returning to their room, she sat on the edge of the bed and sighed happily.

"Two days of meat in a row..."

"I wouldn't even have dared dream of this before."

"I feel stronger already."

Adrian laughed softly.

"You were the one accusing Johan of trying to trick Father out of the land deeds yesterday."

"With the way he acted before, how could I possibly believe he'd suddenly change overnight?"

Then she sighed again.

"But if Second Brother could really bring back prey regularly... life would become much easier."

Adrian snorted.

"You're dreaming."

"When Father was still healthy, he returned empty-handed eight times out of ten."

"Hunting depends heavily on luck."

That much was true.

Anyone who entered the mountains regularly understood it.

Some days prey practically walked into your hands.

Other days you searched from dawn until sunset and found nothing.

After a while, Elspeth suddenly spoke again.

"If Second Brother truly becomes a hunter... wouldn't the family fields mostly fall to us to manage?"

Adrian naturally understood what she meant.

Even so, he shook his head.

"Even if we farmed them, half the harvest would still belong to Johan."

"That's still better than working tenant land," Elspeth replied.

"Tenant farmers only keep thirty percent."

After Johan returned with prey two days in a row, the hopelessness she once felt had finally begun fading.

For the first time in months, she could actually see hope for the future.

Then Adrian suddenly added:

"Keep your eyes open in the village."

"If you hear about any decent girls, try arranging introductions for Johan again."

Elspeth snorted.

"Don't worry. I'm already asking around."

Then she added with a grin:

"If Second Brother really starts bringing home prey regularly, we won't need to ask around at all."

"Families will come knocking on our door themselves."

Chapter 14: A Herb on the Peak.

The next morning, the north wind had eased a little, and the sky was still gray when Adrian left the house with a bundle of dry firewood and the two pheasants he meant to sell.

Before he had even reached the village gate, several villagers heading toward the market borough spotted him and gathered around at once.

"Adrian Cain, I smelled meat from your house yesterday. It was not a feast day, so why were you eating meat?"

In a winter like this, when everyone was half-starved, the smell of cooked meat carried far. A pot of pheasant stew could not be hidden from hungry noses.

Adrian gave the birds hanging from his belt a proud shake.

Only then did the others notice the pheasants, and their eyes immediately lit up.

"Pheasants? Has old Edgar's leg healed already?"

Everyone in the village knew Edgar's hunting skill. Most hunters came back empty-handed eight or nine times out of ten, but Edgar had always been the kind who could still bring something home.

Adrian shook his head.

"No. My younger brother hunted them from the mountain. He caught four in all. We stewed the fattest one yesterday, and the taste…"

He could not even finish describing it and simply made a pleased sound instead.

That alone was enough to make the man across from him swallow hard.

In this weather, a bowl of rich pheasant stew sounded like heaven.

"You're selling them?" the man asked carefully.

"Why else would I bring them out?" Adrian answered. "One hundred twenty copper coins each. Since we are villagers, I'll save myself the trip if you want one."

"One hundred twenty?"

The man nearly choked.

"That's over ten pounds of millet."

"For you, it is already discounted," Adrian said. "If I take them to the town inns, I could get at least one hundred fifty each."

"Then forget it. Our winter grain is already scarce. You should sell them in town."

Though he was tempted, this year's harvest had been poor, and the new grain levy had left every household short.

Unless a family had savings, who would spend that much on a meal?

Adrian had not expected to sell to the man anyway. With the pheasants dangling from his belt, he walked through the village in plain sight, making sure everyone saw them.

Meanwhile, Johan was still asleep, unaware that news of his hunting had already spread through the village by morning.

He had hoped to keep it quiet so men like Martin Stone would not come sniffing around.

But Adrian thought differently.

His younger brother was not yet married, and after all that had happened before, his name in the village had become poor. Now was the time to show that he had value.

In a hard winter, the greatest skill a man could have was being able to feed his family.

As long as the villagers knew Johan could hunt, finding him a bride later would be much easier.

Just as daylight crept in, Johan heard knocking at the door.

"Second Uncle! Second Uncle!"

He opened the door drowsily.

"Nolan, what is it?"

"Did you forget the traps we set yesterday?" Nolan cried. "Hurry back up the mountain before the rabbits get away!"

Johan glanced at the sky and pulled his coat tighter.

The temperature had dropped again.

Since Adrian had taken the houndskin coat, going up the mountain now would be cold enough to sting the bones.

Still, the snares he had set by the rabbit burrow might have caught something already. It would be a waste if he let another villager find them first.

"It's too cold for you," Johan said. "I'll go, but you should stay home."

Nolan looked disappointed at once.

"I still want to catch rabbits."

He had felt ashamed for failing to catch the pheasant yesterday, and today he wanted to make up for it.

"I'll take you once the weather warms," Johan said, patting his head.

He went back inside to put on his clothes, then summoned the ancient silver coin.

Soft light shone from its surface. Johan tapped it lightly, and the glow scattered to reveal three slender slips.

[Minor Fortune: On the summit of Small Dark Mountain, two five-year-old gastrodia tubers have matured. If you go there, you may gain a harvest.]

[Moderate Fortune: Roe deer are currently active on the southern slope of Small Dark Mountain. Bring your hunting bow, and you may gain something.]

[Great tragedy: The Wolf King driven from its pack is now on the northern slope of Small Dark Mountain. If you can obtain its pelt, you can make a handsome profit. But it is starving now. Be careful, or it may tear you apart.]

The roe deer were still there, but Johan still had no way to deal with them.

The lone wolf event had changed slightly. The wolf was starving now.

That made it even more dangerous.

Still, if it starved long enough, the Great Tragedy might turn into a Great Fortune.

If it died on the mountain, the pelt might simply fall into his hands.

Of course, that would have to wait.

Johan finally looked at the newly appeared Minor Fortune.

Gastrodia tuber... that sounded like a medicinal herb.

He remembered vaguely that apothecaries bought such things, though he did not know the price.

It was on the summit, though, which meant it would be colder still.

After a moment's hesitation, Johan still took the gastrodia slip first.

At least that would not waste tomorrow's divination opportunity.

When he opened the door again, Nolan was still squatting at the entrance.

Johan could not help softening a little.

"The wind is strong today. You would not last long on the peak."

"I can!" Nolan jumped up and patted his own cotton coat, which was thicker than Johan's.

His brother and sister-in-law truly cared for these children. Their coats were stuffed with more cotton than most village folk could afford.

Johan thought of the coming cold and knew he would not be able to take the child higher anyway.

"Alright," he said. "Come with me."

Then he glanced at Elsie.

"You too?"

Elsie hesitated, then shook her head.

"Mother went out too. I'll stay and watch Grandfather."

"Good." Johan smiled.

Twelve-year-old village children were already learning responsibility.

As he headed out, he called, "Father, I'm going up the mountain!"

"So cold—why go now?" Edgar came out of his room.

"Checking the snares I set yesterday."

Before leaving, Johan went into the kitchen and stuffed a handful of millet into his pocket.

Chapter 15: The Hunter's first lesson!

Without the houndskin coat, Johan felt the cold immediately when he stepped outside.

Fortunately, winter had only just begun.

If it grew much colder, the family would need to burn the firewood they had gathered for warmth, and then there would be even less to sell.

Winter was supposed to be the season of rest.

But for poor people in a famine year, winter was the hardest season of all.

If the harvest failed and the food stores were thin and no wild greens remained in the fields, then all that was left was cold, hunger, and the risk of freezing to death.

Lost in those thoughts, Johan reached the first snare line with Nolan beside him.

He checked the first trap.

Nothing.

The second.

Nothing again.

The third.

Still empty.

Nolan slumped in disappointment.

"Ah... why is there nothing?"

Johan had already expected this.

Hunting was like this most of the time.

Nine times out of ten, a hunter came home with nothing.

He did not adjust the traps. Instead, he scattered a few grains of millet along the main paths again.

He had also brought a shovel, planning to dig up the gastrodia tubers if the weather allowed.

But before he could reach the summit, his legs began to tremble, and Nolan started shivering from the cold.

The wind was too fierce.

With only one coat, reaching the peak was unbearable.

After thinking it over, Johan gave up for the day.

In deep winter, hardly anyone came up here, so even if he skipped today, the herb probably would still be there tomorrow.

"Second uncle, should we check the pheasant nest?" Nolan asked hopefully.

"Fine," Johan said.

Since they were already on the mountain, they might as well look.

When they reached the hollow where they had found the pheasants yesterday, there was nothing left but a few scattered feathers.

No birds. No movement. Nothing.

Nolan pouted.

Johan gave his head a light tap.

"If every trip brought back rabbits and pheasants, would any village family still be hungry?"

Nolan could only nod miserably.

That day, Johan went back down the mountain empty-handed for the first time.

...

Meanwhile, Elspeth was digging wild roots in another wooded area.

Winter meant roots and tubers, if you could find them at all.

They were hard to locate and even harder to dig out.

Her fingers soon turned red from the cold.

She pulled her hands back into her sleeves and rested them for warmth.

A woman digging nearby walked over with a teasing smile.

"I heard your second son sold the family food stores. And you let him?"

Elspeth leaned against a tree and quietly straightened her back.

She had deliberately come out today, hoping someone would bring this up.

Pretending not to care, she answered,

"Just some millet. Besides, Johan brought back four pheasants yesterday. Those can be exchanged for plenty of grain in town."

The woman blinked.

"Four pheasants? So that was the meat I smelled yesterday?"

Then she swallowed hard.

"One pheasant can bring over ten pounds of meal."

The woman looked at Elspeth with unexpected sympathy, as though stewing pheasants to eat was some terrible extravagance.

Elspeth sighed in feigned regret.

"I said we should trade them for grain, too, but Second Son said Father and the children need strength first. So we kept two for food and traded the rest today."

"One was stewed yesterday, and another is being fried today."

"Oh, and we stewed a rabbit the day before yesterday, too. Still, pheasant is better."

The woman's envy rose immediately.

"Of course it is. Winter pheasants are fat. They must be very rich in flavor."

Then she studied Elspeth more closely.

"No wonder your face has looked better these last two days. You've been eating meat every day."

"Yes," Elspeth said lightly. "I never thought our little rogue... Johan would have this skill."

She caught herself in time.

Most villagers still considered Edgar the best hunter in the region, even if his story about blinding a bear had become a joke.

If Johan could learn even half of that skill, he would become a respected hunter, too.

And that was exactly what she and Adrian had decided to do.

Build up Johan's reputation first, then find him a bride.

Johan himself had no idea his image was slowly changing from wastrel to capable man.

...

After returning home and eating, Johan was called out again by Edgar.

They went to the open ground behind the village.

Johan stood beneath a large tree holding Edgar's horn bow, while Edgar squatted on a stone step with a pot of resin, smoothing it onto the arrows.

More than twenty wooden arrows lay neatly arranged in a bamboo basket.

The iron heads were dull but sharp, and the tails were bound with dried goose feathers.

This was the first time Johan had ever held his father's hunting bow.

He could not help testing the draw.

"Don't rush," Edgar said, tossing him an arrow. "First, feel its weight."

Johan caught it and felt the mulberry shaft press solidly into his palm.

"The arrow is dead," Edgar said. "The hunter is alive. You need to know which end is heavier and how it settles, so it flies straight."

Then he stood, took the bow, planted its tip on the ground, stepped on the string, and pulled outward.

The horn bow creaked like old bones being stretched.

"This is a two-stone bow. If you can hold it steady for half an hour, you can start shooting."

Johan copied the posture.

Left arm forward. Right hand hooked to the string.

Just as he tried to force the draw, Edgar pressed his shoulder.

"Do not tense up. Use your back."

"Shoulders down. Elbows low. Your waist should be like willow branches in early spring—soft in appearance, but able to bend and recover."

After several attempts, Johan finally understood.

Archery was not about brute strength in the arms.

It was about the back, the waist, and the line of the body.

The bowstring hummed as he drew it, and Johan felt the old wood resisting him.

Edgar handed him a small stone.

"Clamp this in your elbow. Hold it there."

Within a quarter hour, Johan's arms began trembling.

Even in the winter cold, sweat dripped from his jaw and darkened his coat.

"Too low!" Edgar barked.

Johan lifted the bow slightly.

"Look at that tree scar," Edgar said, pointing at a mark on the trunk. "That is your prey's eye. Stare at it until it fills your vision like a millstone."

Johan fixed his gaze on the scar.

Then something strange happened.

The tiredness in his body seemed to fade as a clear current flowed through him.

His trembling slowed.

His mind sharpened.

The tree scar grew larger and larger in his sight, as if he were looking through a lens.

When it seemed as big as a millstone, Johan released the string.

Whoosh!

The arrow shot out straight and fast.

Chapter 16: Fish in Golden Stone Pond.

The arrow looked impressive at first glance.

But in truth, it flew only a short distance before wobbling hard and sinking into the ground.

Johan hissed in pain as the bow twisted in his grip and a tearing ache ran through his shoulder.

Edgar immediately stepped forward and massaged the joint.

"From now on, every time you come back from hunting, rub your shoulders properly. Better yet, soak in a hot bath. Otherwise you'll damage yourself when you get older."

After resting a little, Johan stood up again.

"Again, Father."

Since crossing over into this body, his senses had clearly grown sharper than before.

And when he concentrated fully, that feeling became even stronger.

He wanted to test it again.

Edgar nodded in satisfaction.

This time, his younger son did not seem to be acting on a whim.

"Now we train sight and movement."

Johan drew the bow again.

"Prey moves. Your eyes must move too," Edgar explained.

He tossed over an empty clay jar.

"Watch the opening. I'll throw stones around it. Your gaze follows the stones, but your eyes do not leave the opening. Your hands do not move. The bow does not shake."

Stones tapped against the ground.

Johan's eyes followed them at once.

Edgar nodded.

"A hunter's eyes are not dead eyes. They should be like a cat watching a mouse—focused, but aware of everything around them.

"The mountain belongs to the beasts, not to us.

"If you cannot watch all directions and hear everything, you die in the woods."

Johan seemed unusually suited to this part.

His gaze stayed fixed on the jar opening while still catching the movement of each tossed stone.

The stone in his elbow did not fall.

Just as his eyes began to sharpen, Edgar said, "Good. Now release."

He pointed at an old locust tree.

"Do not worry about hitting it. First make the arrow fly straight."

Johan breathed in.

He drew the bow again.

Shoulders down.

Elbows low.

Waist turning gently.

The string hummed as it loosed.

The arrow drove into the tree trunk and quivered there.

It missed the scar by a few inches.

Edgar's eyes flickered with surprise.

Then he coughed and said casually,

"Not bad. With enough practice, you should learn something of my skill."

Johan noticed the slight smile forming on his father's face and chuckled inwardly.

Edgar pulled the arrow free and set the fletching straight again.

It had not penetrated deep, which meant the force was still lacking.

Johan thought the matter over.

He was eighteen now, an age when eyesight and reaction were at their peak.

After transmigrating, his senses seemed sharper than before, which would help with archery.

His only weakness was strength.

If he could build that up, he would hit the center next time.

The path was already open.

As he thought of this, he became excited.

Edgar handed him another arrow.

"Every arrow must be maintained after use. Straighten the feathers, oil the head, and it can be used several more times."

Then he said, "You already know the basics. Now it's just practice."

He smiled faintly.

"When I served in the army, the captain gave us one bow and a bundle of arrows. After that, it was battle after battle."

Johan nodded.

He kept drawing the bow again and again until sunset, when his arms were so tired he could no longer lift them.

At last the two returned home.

Johan was about to give the bow back to Edgar's room, but Edgar stopped him.

"It's yours now. Treat it carefully. Oil it every day."

He had originally planned to test Johan for a few more days.

But now that he had seen real talent, he was willing to hand the bow over.

"Thank you, Father."

Johan's face lit up.

With the dogskin coat and the bow, he could finally call himself a real hunter.

By the time they returned, Elspeth was already cooking.

"Father! Second Son! Dinner's ready!"

Nolan, who had been hungry for a long time, was circling her nonstop.

"Mother, is there meat tonight?"

"What do you think?" she said. "Which household eats meat every day?"

Nolan drooped in disappointment.

He had spent all day bragging to the village children about how fragrant the pheasant stew had been yesterday.

He had hoped for meat again tonight.

"If only I had eaten less yesterday..." he muttered.

"But I did stir-fry the chicken gizzards with root vegetables and used a little lard."

Then Elspeth glanced at Johan.

"Second Son, let's save the other pheasant for tomorrow. Too much meat is hard to digest."

Johan had to agree.

"Then we eat it tomorrow."

When he joked that he could not go too long on plain food, Elspeth's expression darkened slightly.

Edgar, who had been pleased with him all day, went inside with his cane grumbling under his breath.

Nolan was still only thinking about the chicken gizzards.

He bounced around in front of Elspeth.

"Mother! I want to eat! I want to eat!"

Elspeth tapped him on the head.

"Wait for your father."

Just then, Adrian entered carrying a cloth sack.

"Father, eat quickly."

"Hold on," he said, "I'm putting the grain away first."

He went into the kitchen and set down the millet first, then came out and sat down at the table.

Soon after, he spoke while sipping his porridge.

"Grain prices rose again. The two pheasants and the firewood sold for three hundred copper coins total, but it only bought fifteen kilograms of millet."

"Only that much?" Elspeth became tense at once.

The family had eaten well these last two days, and she had even thickened the porridge tonight.

Fifteen kilograms of millet would not last long.

Maybe ten days, if they were careful.

Johan spoke at once.

"Don't worry, sister-in-law. I'll go up the mountain again tomorrow and hunt more."

"Father gave me the bow. From now on I won't only hunt pheasants."

Now that he had learned archery, the roe deer on the southern slope were starting to look appetizing.

If he could build up his body while eating meat every day, all the better.

Johan still needed protein if he wanted to improve his strength.

Plain millet was not enough.

Edgar only gave one answer.

"Eat first."

Neither Adrian nor Elspeth discouraged Johan's enthusiasm.

Even if he failed, hunting was better than stealing the family's goods to sell.

That night, Johan practiced drawing the bow for another half hour before sleeping.

The next morning, he woke early and checked the silver coin.

Its glow had returned.

It could be used again.

"So it refreshes once a day."

He tapped it lightly.

A faint glow gathered at once.

The star above the coin brightened, and new words appeared beside it.

[Fate Star: Mountain Wanderer]

Then the coin spat out three new slips.

[Minor luck: Before dark, bring a fish spear or net to Golden Stone Pond. You may gain something.]

[Moderate luck: Roe deer are currently roaming the southern slope of Small Dark Mountain. Bring your hunting bow, and you may gain something.]

[Great tragedy: A lone wolf has come to the northern foothills of Small Dark Mountain. If you can obtain its pelt, you may earn a large sum. But the wolf is starving. Approach carelessly, and it may tear you apart.]

Chapter 17: The Mountain Wanderer's Fate Star.

Johan stared at the glowing star.

"Mountain Wanderer... does that mean my identity?"

He looked down at the three slips beneath it.

"The scope of the divination seems to follow the Fate Star."

"If my identity changes in the future, maybe the predictions will change too."

The silver coin clearly held more secrets than he could understand at once.

He left that thought aside for now and focused on the slips.

Yesterday, he had taken the gastrodia slip, even though he never managed to harvest it.

Yet the divination had refreshed normally today.

That meant the system did not fail simply because he skipped a target.

Golden Stone Pond...

He remembered that pond.

It lay in a deep hollow on the mountain and collected meltwater and rubble from the slopes.

In summer, villagers often went there to catch fish and shrimp.

But in winter, very few dared.

Fall into that water, and you might never come back out.

Still, fish were fish.

If it could be fried in oil, it would be delicious.

The only problem was that his household had little oil.

Johan looked at the minor fortune slip and hesitated only briefly.

The family had only one pheasant left.

If they ate that today, then tomorrow there would be no meat at all.

He still needed to build strength.

Even a fish was better than going back to wild greens.

He took the slip.

The parchment turned to light and merged into his body.

At once, the image of Golden Stone Pond appeared in his mind.

A large fish with a blue-gray back floated near the water's surface.

It was nearly a foot long.

Its mouth opened and closed weakly, and its tail moved only lazily now and then.

It rolled slightly, exposing a silver-white belly, then turned back upright.

"Half-dead?" Johan murmured.

"No wonder it counts as minor luck."

If the fish had been lively, he would never have caught it.

At this temperature, if he fell into the pond, he might freeze to death before he drowned.

But if the fish were already weak, then it would be simple.

"Good. Today I'm harvesting gastrodia and catching fish."

He packed his firewood knife, slung the bow across his back, put on the houndskin coat, and stepped outside.

Elspeth noticed at once.

"Going up the mountain again?"

"Yes," Johan said. "I'm seeing if I can bring back more meat."

She hurriedly prepared breakfast first, then handed him a cloth bundle with three wild vegetable balls mixed with millet.

"I added a little chicken fat," she said. "They'll keep you full."

After Johan's change and the four pheasants, her attitude toward him had completely turned around.

"Thank you, sister-in-law."

"I might come back late today, so don't wait for me."

If he had time, he also wanted to go to the southern slope and search for roe deer tracks.

Every chance at a divination slip mattered.

Watching him leave, Elspeth murmured to herself,

"He even says thank you now. He really has changed."

Johan's appearance—a houndskin coat and bow—naturally drew attention as he walked out of the village.

The rumor that Johan had finally "come to his senses" had already spread halfway through Three Hills Village through Adrian and Elspeth.

"He's going up the mountain again? Has that rogue really reformed?" an old man muttered.

Another man hissed, "Keep your voice down. Martha called him a rogue once, and he nearly drew a knife on her."

The old man immediately lowered his voice, though he still grumbled.

"He's still just a—"

Before he could finish, he felt Johan's gaze sweep across him.

His hand was already near the knife at his belt.

The man's mouth snapped shut.

Then he forced a nervous laugh.

"Little Johan, are you going hunting?"

Johan nodded at him with a faint smile.

"Uncle, don't you still have chickens at home?"

"Ha... ha..."

The old man laughed awkwardly.

"Only joking. Don't mind me."

Johan smiled inwardly.

This wastrel image really was useful.

As long as he acted a little unruly, most villagers would not dare provoke him.

Only after he had gone a fair distance did the old man relax and mutter behind him.

"Reformed, my foot. What he's catching probably isn't wild game at all. More likely someone's chickens."

Others nearby spoke up.

"No, I saw with my own eyes that Adrian sold them in town. They really were pheasants."

"So he actually knows how to hunt?"

"Dragon begets dragon, fox begets fox. Edgar was a hunter too. What's strange about his son learning the trade?"

At the village gate, Martin Stone appeared from beside the road.

He had been waiting there on purpose.

"That rabbit of his was already dead when he found it," he said smugly. "He just picked it up."

He had seen the bird and rabbit before and knew the truth.

"And those pheasants were just hiding in a nest. A child could have caught them. That doesn't count as hunting."

The more he thought about the knife Johan had pressed to his throat last time, the angrier he became.

If he had gone up the mountain earlier, that rabbit would have been his.

In Martin's mind, Johan had stolen his rabbit and threatened him with a knife for it.

"And he still wants me to pay the silver back? No chance."

An old man nearby laughed.

"Weren't you his brother once? Why were you hiding by the road instead of greeting him?"

"Who's his brother?" Martin snapped. "I've cut ties with him already."

He tucked his hands into his sleeves and glared.

Though irritated, he had genuinely been frightened by Johan's ferocity before.

He had not dared show himself earlier.

"Then I suppose Johan really has changed," the old man said with a shrug. "Cutting ties with you lot is probably a good thing."

"What are you talking about?" Martin barked, but the old man had already walked off.

...

Johan's first stop up the mountain was still the snare line.

The first trap was empty.

The second was empty too.

The third held nothing but a few scattered strands of rope.

"So hard to catch anything," Johan muttered.

This was hunting.

Even when he saw the tracks and set the snare properly, he still got nothing on two straight days.

He scattered fresh millet near the paths and decided that if there was still no result tomorrow, he would take the snares back and wait until spring.

Then he climbed higher.

After nearly two hours, his back was soaked with sweat and his collar steamed with warm breath.

Yet the mountain wind cut across his face like a knife.

At last he reached the central peak of Small Dark Mountain.

From there, he could see another mountain rising beyond it, nearly twice as tall.

Dense forest covered it so heavily that even in daylight it looked black.

Who knew how many snakes and beasts lived there.

That was Two Black Mountains.

Just looking at it from afar made one feel danger.

But danger meant opportunity.

The larger game lived there.

Roe deer were already becoming rare even on Small Dark Mountain.

Johan quietly made up his mind.

One day, he would go there.

After resting, he began searching for the gastrodia tubers.

Following the divination's guidance, he descended a little way from the peak and found a wind-sheltered slope.

There were more trees here, and the fallen leaves formed a thick layer like old bedding.

He pushed aside a patch of half-dead ferns with his shovel.

The glowing guidance before his eyes flickered faintly.

But there was still no sign of the herb.

Chapter 18: Rival hunter, grey squirrel in the snare.

"Buried under the rock?"

Johan had never learned herb gathering before.

He only knew the appearance of gastrodia from the divination.

When the glow pointed toward a loose blue stone slab, he crouched and lifted it carefully.

Under it, a ring of pale fungal threads clung to the edges like the roots of an old vine.

Johan's eyes brightened.

Gastrodia grew with rotten wood fungus.

If the fungus was here, then the herb had to be nearby.

He leaned down and worked the shovel gently into the crack.

Leaves rustled down, exposing dark earth beneath.

A round, mud-coated lump rolled out.

Johan wiped it with his sleeve.

The base was yellowish-white.

One end had a pointed bud mouth.

The other had a hollow navel.

Gastrodia.

"This is it."

He grew even more careful and dug deeper along the fungal threads.

The shovel hit the root body.

Johan moved it aside and pried up both soil and roots together.

Two tubers appeared side by side, thick as a child's forearm, their outer skin marked with delicate rings like tree growth lines.

"Five-year-old tubers should be worth something," he muttered.

He quickly pulled out a cloth bundle from his chest and placed them inside carefully.

Then he covered the soil again and tucked the leaves back over the spot.

Maybe more would grow here later.

"This trip was not wasted."

He had worked hard to reach the summit, so at least it had not been for nothing.

But instead of heading straight to Golden Stone Pond,

Johan continued along the leeward slope toward the southern side of the mountain.

Roe deer were active there according to the prophecy.

He did not know the exact place, but it was worth scouting.

The southern slope was broader and the forest thicker than the side facing Three Hills Village.

He searched for an hour and found only a few dried droppings.

Looking farther ahead into the thicker brush, he murmured,

"If roe deer really are here, I'll have to go farther south."

That would take him well away from the village.

He still had to reach Golden Stone Pond before dark, so he stopped himself.

"Best come back another day. My archery is still too weak. Even if I found one, I might not catch it."

Just as he turned, his gaze fell on a snowy mound about a dozen steps away.

Something felt wrong.

Johan reacted instantly.

The bow came off his back in a single motion, and the string was drawn taut.

"Don't be nervous."

The snow mound stood up and spoke at the same time.

It turned out to be a man in a rabbit-fur robe with an ebony bow on his back and a short knife at his waist.

He looked to be in his thirties.

His face was red-purple from the cold, and his skin was cracked and pale.

"Good eyes," the man said with a smile. "Which village are you from, hunter?"

"Three Hills Village." Johan stayed cautious.

Meeting another hunter in the wild was not necessarily a good thing.

Hunters were known to fight over prey.

"Three Hills Village?" the man asked. "You look unfamiliar. Who in your family hunts?"

Johan did not answer.

The man smiled.

"I'm Johan Cain from the village of Long River, south of here."

He pointed away toward the south.

Johan lowered the bow slightly.

"Johan Cain."

The man's eyes lit up.

"Cain? Are you related to old Edgar Cain?"

"My father."

The man clicked his tongue.

"No wonder. Your old man hasn't come up the mountain in a while. I thought maybe he had passed his skill to you. That bow looks familiar too."

Then he grinned.

"Come on, show me what you've got."

Johan rolled his eyes.

Just because he knew his father, did he think he could order him around like a senior hunter?

"I've only just started learning," Johan said, stepping back. "Nothing worth showing. I'm heading down now."

"Don't go yet. You haven't seen any blood today, have you?" the man called, following him a step.

Johan naturally did not mention the gastrodia in his coat.

Seeing Johan keep quiet, the man chuckled.

"Don't worry. Everyone starts out like this."

Then he pulled two turtledoves from his belt and held them out.

"Take them. Consider it a greeting gift. Tell your father I'm waiting to hunt Two Black Mountain with him again."

Turtledoves were mountain birds.

They flew quickly and perched high, which made them hard to hit.

This man clearly had bow skill too, and he had even been to Two Black Mountains with Edgar before.

Johan took the birds at last.

"Thank you, Uncle Garrick."

"Don't mention it. It's only two birds."

Then the man patted Johan's shoulder and lowered his voice.

"By the way, there's a hidden pit up ahead. Be careful if you go there."

A hidden pit usually meant a giant hole left by a landslide or a trap for larger prey.

One bad step could mean death or a broken body.

Johan's face tensed slightly.

"I see. I'll go somewhere else."

"Good," the man said. "That's the first rule of hunting. The more you walk the mountain, the better you know it."

"I'm changing spots too. You scared the turtledoves off."

After a few more polite words, they turned and left in opposite directions.

Once the man was gone, Johan's expression tightened.

This Garrick Fletcher had probably found the roe deer tracks and did not want anyone else stumbling on them.

He would need to act quickly.

Tomorrow morning, he would draw a roe deer fortune and move fast.

Even with his current archery, at close range he should be able to pierce one.

But first, he needed to finish today's hunt.

As he made his way toward Golden Stone Pond, he took a brief detour to check the snare.

This time, before he even reached it, he heard a faint squeaking sound.

Johan's heart jumped.

He hurried forward.

The snare had been triggered.

A gray-black creature hung in the air, trapped by the rope loop.

Its bushy tail whipped violently against the tree trunk, but each struggle only tightened the noose.

Red marks already showed on its fur.

It was a gray squirrel.

Apparently it had been drawn in by the millet and never expected the snare at all.

Chapter 19: The Squirrel's Larder.

Johan stepped forward, untied the snare, and held the squirrel in his hand.

At once, he felt a little disappointed.

The creature had a great bushy tail, but its body was not much larger than a rat's. There was hardly any meat on it at all.

If he had found nothing else today, he might have brought it back just to fill the gap between his teeth.

But with a turtledove already tucked in his coat and a fish still waiting at Golden Stone Pond, he naturally looked down on it.

Besides, squirrel meat was said to be sour and dry. Villagers only ate it when they were truly desperate.

The squirrel stared straight at Johan with round black eyes. Its nose twitched, and it let out sharp, squeaking cries while struggling weakly.

Johan's heart stirred slightly.

A faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.

"You look rather pitiful," he said. "I'll let you go."

Then he casually tossed the creature into the snow.

The squirrel seemed to have received a royal pardon. It darted away at once, scrambling wildly across the white ground.

Johan slung his bow over his shoulder and followed at a distance.

The squirrel moved quickly, weaving between the trees like a streak of gray-brown smoke.

For ordinary people, it would have vanished in moments.

But Johan's eyesight had long since become stronger than a normal man's. Even at twenty or thirty paces, he kept it in sight as though a spiderweb had caught it.

After running several hundred paces, the squirrel leaped onto the crown of a large tree.

It paused, looked around, then darted into the hollow of a nearby dead trunk.

Johan stepped out from behind the trees, a smile slowly spreading.

"So this is your den."

He placed his hand on the half-rotten trunk.

The old tree had clearly been dead for years, though it still stood beside the larger living tree.

He gave it a shove.

The trunk swayed slightly.

Johan drew his woodsman's knife and struck once.

BANG.

The squirrel, which had only just reached home, squealed in alarm and sprang out at once, leaping to another nearby tree.

This time, it did not run far.

Instead, it turned and stared at him with tiny eyes, its tail bristling in fear.

Johan struck again.

The dry trunk cracked and split.

From the opening poured a stream of pine nuts and other seeds like a small waterfall.

Johan's eyes lit up.

"So you've hoarded quite a lot."

In his former life, he had heard that squirrels stored food all winter long, sometimes filling tree hollows so completely they forgot where they had hidden everything.

That was exactly why he had let the squirrel go.

He had wanted it to lead him home.

As the nuts continued to spill out, Johan's smile widened.

He took off his carrying bag and caught them inside, then picked up the ones that had scattered across the snow.

After weighing them by hand, he estimated there were four or five pounds at least.

"The body may be small, but the hiding skill is impressive."

The squirrel still had not left.

It sat on the branch above, chattering furiously while staring at its now-empty storehouse.

Johan could not understand animal speech, but he guessed it was cursing him very creatively.

He felt a little embarrassed.

Looking up, he said, "I spared your life. Taking a little ransom is only fair."

"Squeak! Squeak squeak squeak!"

"Keep yelling, and I'll take you for meat too."

He lifted the bow slightly.

The squirrel panicked and sprang to another tree, though it still stared back at the hollow, eyes wet with grievance.

Johan ignored it and shook the cloth bag in his hand.

The nuts were not meat, but they were rich in oils. A little roasting would make them fragrant.

If he could press oil from them, fry fish with it, and then make soup...

He nearly drooled just thinking about it.

His stomach rumbled loudly.

So he sat down at the base of the tree, ignored the squirrel's curses, and took out the vegetable bread Elspeth had prepared.

Millet mixed with wild greens was hard to swallow, but with the thought of meat in his mind, he forced it down one after another.

He ate three breads before his stomach finally felt calm.

After washing them down with a sip of water, he looked up again.

The squirrel was still chattering.

Johan gave it a mild glare, and the creature immediately leaped farther away.

He no longer cared about it.

If he wanted to catch fish, he still needed a proper spear.

For a dying fish, the spear did not need to be especially fine.

Straight would do.

Hard enough would do.

And a comfortable grip would do.

He searched through the forest for some time before finding a half-broken jujube tree.

The trunk was as thick as a bowl and snapped in such a way that one branch rose straight from a crevice in the rock.

The top of the branch forked naturally into a triangular shape, like ready-made prongs for a spear.

Johan walked over, grabbed it, and shook it.

The wood was firm and tight.

"This will do."

He swung his knife three times at the base.

The trunk cracked and tilted over, sending up a cloud of dry leaves.

Johan crouched, trimmed away the extra branches, and sharpened the forked end until it was as pointed as an awl.

He also carved two shallow grooves near the handle for a better grip.

After a few trial swings, he nodded in satisfaction.

Then he carried the spear toward Golden Stone Pond.

...

Golden Stone Pond was larger than Johan expected.

It was at least a full acre in size; no wonder it could nourish such large fish.

The water was dark green.

Dead leaves floated across the surface, hiding whatever swam below.

Whenever the wind brushed across the pond, ripples moved under the leaves, and something stirred beneath the water.

Johan picked up a stone and tossed it into the leaf-covered water.

Plop.

At once, a large bluish-gray fish thrashed its tail and splashed hard before diving straight down.

Johan remained calm.

He had already seen the fish floating belly-up earlier.

Its swim bladder was damaged. It would not stay down for long.

Sure enough, after a while, the carp rose again, exposing its blue-gray back.

It swam a few strokes, then rolled over and showed its white belly once more.

It was still too far from shore for the spear.

Johan threw another stone and drove it closer.

After three rounds of this, the carp surfaced again only two feet from the bank.

Johan moved closer, held his breath, and carefully lowered the spear into the water.

The fish wagged its tail weakly, but it no longer had the strength to flee.

Johan's wrist sank.

The spear dipped with the current, and its tip pierced the fish's belly with perfect accuracy.

With a dull thud, water splashed over his hand.

The carp suddenly came alive.

It twisted violently, slapping the surface with its tail, but the spear held firm.

Even nearly dead, a carp in water still had strength comparable to a boy of twelve or thirteen.

Johan's arm veins stood out sharply.

He did not dare loosen his grip for an instant.

Only when the struggle weakened did he pull hard and lift the fish from the water.

The silver-white belly flashed in the sunlight.

Blood dripped down onto the frozen stones.

"It's even bigger than I thought."

Only after lifting it from the pond did he see the true size.

It was nearly two feet long, probably weighing ten to fifteen pounds.

Johan was still carrying it on his back when he suddenly hissed.

Looking down, he realized that in his excitement, both feet had stepped into the mud at the pond's edge.

His boots had already taken in water.

The cold had begun to seep in.

If he stayed here too long, they would be soaked through completely.

"Damn."

Johan's expression tightened.

In this weather, if pond water got into his boots, his feet might freeze so badly the flesh would stick to the leather.

If that happened, he might not be able to walk for the entire winter.

He quickly found a branch, threaded it through the fish's gills, and slung the fish over his back.

Then he headed down the mountain as fast as he could.

Chapter 20: The Man Who Nearly Got Himself Killed.

By the time Johan reached the village gate, dusk had already fallen.

Men and women who had spent the day gathering firewood or digging for roots were returning home with tired steps.

This year's harvest had been poor, and no household had enough grain stored away.

Everyone was trying to stockpile whatever firewood and winter food they could.

They could still roam outside now, but once the cold deepened, they would be trapped indoors with nothing but their stores.

That was when winter would become truly cruel.

As the villagers gradually returned, hurried footsteps suddenly sounded from behind.

Everyone turned around.

A huge bluish-gray fish was rushing toward the village, its tail flopping wildly.

Those who saw it stopped in place.

"What a fish!" someone cried.

"Could that feed a family for all winter?"

A fish over ten pounds could indeed be stretched over several meals.

A few slices every couple of days, and it might last the season.

After admiring the fish, the crowd's gaze fell on Johan, who was carrying it on one shoulder.

"That's the Cain boy," someone said. "He's brought back something again."

"Second Son Cain, where did you catch such a huge fish?" another villager asked, hurrying forward.

"At the pond," Johan answered without stopping.

"Really? Golden Stone Pond has fish this big? I've never seen one there."

Johan did not slow his pace.

But the villagers kept following.

"We're all neighbors," one said. "Tell us. Our houses are almost out of food."

"Golden Stone Pond," Johan said. "I got lucky and speared one."

The truth was the only answer he needed.

The only nearby waters big enough to produce a fish that size were the stream at the village edge and Golden Stone Pond.

Everyone could guess that much anyway.

"Are there more?"

Johan gave a small smile.

"When has Golden Stone Pond ever been short of fish? Whether you can catch them is another matter."

That answer made several faces darken.

In this kind of weather, who would dare stand on the ice-slick edge of that pond?

One slip and they could drown or freeze to death.

Only someone reckless would do it.

"Second Uncle! Second Uncle!"

Nolan came running out from the village after hearing the noise.

When he saw the giant fish, his face lit up.

He rushed forward at once.

"Let me help carry it!"

"No need," Johan laughed. "Run home and tell your mother to boil a basin of water."

Nolan measured the fish against himself and immediately realized it was longer than he was tall.

He nodded furiously.

"I'll go right now!"

Then he turned and dashed home.

The rest of the villagers were now staring at the fish with unabashed envy.

A fish this fat, nearly two feet long, with its gills threaded through a rope.

Even if fish were not as precious as game, they were still meat.

Among the crowd stood Martin Stone.

When he saw Johan returning with such a huge catch, he snorted through his nose.

"Lucky bastard," he muttered.

He watched Johan hurry home and then noticed the leather boots still dripping from the journey.

A thought came to him.

He stepped forward quickly.

"Johan," he said with a grin, "that's a fine fish."

"Move." Johan did not even look at him.

Martin pretended not to hear.

"Long time no see. Why so cold?"

His eyes slid toward the bulging cloth bag at Johan's waist.

"What have you stuffed in there? Don't tell me you found another rabbit."

He gave the same slippery smile as always.

While speaking, his hand reached for the cloth bag.

"Let me see. I won't take anything."

Johan, carrying the fish in his right hand, pushed Martin aside with his left palm.

"Get lost."

But Martin suddenly staggered backward and sat heavily in the snow.

At once, he shouted,

"I just asked a question! Why hit me?"

"Johan, now that you have some skill, you don't even recognize your old brother?"

Then he lunged forward and wrapped both arms around Johan's leg.

Johan looked down at him with icy eyes.

This fellow was using the same dirty tricks he always had.

The villagers who had gathered around initially stepped back, eager to watch the scene unfold.

"Were they close before?" someone muttered.

"Looks like the Cain boy doesn't want anything to do with him anymore."

"Martin's heart is rotten. Johan's boots are soaked through. If he doesn't get home and into hot water soon, he'll freeze."

Johan had initially thought about kicking Martin in the chin.

But with the fish on his shoulder and one leg trapped, even the smallest movement could send him stumbling.

If he struggled now, Martin would only benefit from the chaos.

Just then, a voice rang out from the edge of the crowd.

"Are you bullying an outsider because no one is backing him?"

Johan looked up.

Edgar and Adrian were walking toward them from outside the ring of onlookers.

Martin raised his head and immediately saw Edgar, limping toward him on a cane.

The remark about "outsider" was not wrong. Three Hills Village had the most people with the surname Vale, followed by Stone, with all other names mixed in.

The Cain family had always been outsiders here.

In most villages, outsiders were easy prey.

But in Three Hills Village, nobody had ever truly dared to bully the Cains.

Edgar had been a soldier once. He had killed men. He was also the best hunter nearby.

He was the village's hard man.

"Who's bullying whom?" Martin shouted, though his confidence had already weakened. "Your son hit me first!"

"Don't try those tricks on me."

Edgar had already stepped close.

His face looked fierce.

Then his cane swung upward.

His palm gripped the lower half of the staff.

"I'm the ancestor of tricksters!"

Before he even finished, the cane came crashing downward toward Martin's head.

The wind of the blow whistled through the air.

Johan's eyes widened.

"Father, stop!"

That staff was thick at the top and thin at the bottom.

If the heavy end struck Martin fully, he would likely be dead or crippled.

Johan hated the man, but he did not want a corpse in the middle of the village square.

That would only attract officials and endless trouble.

Thud!

The stick slammed into the ground, throwing mud.

Edgar had held back only a little.

Martin, however, proved absurdly quick when fear struck.

He twisted and rolled just in time, saving his skull.

His breathing came fast and ragged.

Terror filled his face as he looked up at Edgar.

Edgar snorted and lifted the cane again.

"I've killed more men than you've ever seen. You think I'll let you pull your tricks on my son?"

"Get out!"

Martin did not need to hear that twice.

He clutched his trousers and scrambled up, then ran off in panic.

The villagers, who had initially been shocked, began laughing once they realized he had fled in disgrace.

"Did he wet himself?"

"Looks like it!"

"A grown man like that, peeing his pants in fear!"

"Edgar still has it. He nearly split a man's skull just now."

Johan let out a breath, and Adrian stepped forward to take the fish from his shoulder.

"Let's go home."

Relieved of the weight, Johan hurried after him.

When he entered the courtyard, Elspeth was already carrying out a large wooden basin of hot water.

"Come in quickly and soak your legs!"

Johan went into the common room and removed his boots carefully.

They were already soaked through.

Cold water seeped into them from every seam.

His feet had gone numb long before.

Edgar sat down before him, placed both rough hands on Johan's feet, and began rubbing them hard.

"You cannot soak them immediately if they're this frozen," he said. "Rub them warm first."

Johan instinctively tried to draw back.

Edgar held his feet firmly.

"What, your old man is massaging your legs and you're shy?"