Proposal

Rodan came home later than usual. He made it back in time for dinner, so they all ate together. Then he said the same thing he had said in early October last year.

The Village Chief had called him in.

Last year, Rodan and Gerda had been summoned and told to let commoners join the boar hunt. The plan had gone badly, and Rodan had suffered life-threatening injuries during the hunt.

Hearing that, Telesia's expression changed dramatically. It was a mix of worry, anger, and anxiety.

"W-What did he say?!"

Rodan hadn't done anything wrong, but Telesia questioned him as if she were interrogating him.

Rodan froze, still holding a bowl of vegetable soup with bits of meat in it and a wooden spoon. It seemed he couldn't answer right away. Silence fell.

After quite some time, he finally told them.

"He wants us to double the number of boars we turn in over the next two years, from ten to twenty. To do that, he wants more commoners and serfs to be able to join the hunt."

"Wha—?! What?! That's...! L-Last year, too...!"

Rodan had told her the very thing Telesia feared most. She was so shaken she couldn't get the words out. She was thinking of what had happened to him last year. Telesia raised her voice, and Myura began to cry.

Telesia hurried to soothe Myura.

"Dad, I need to put Myura and Mash to bed, so can I hear the rest of the story later?"

"Huh?"

Rodan and Telesia were surprised by Allen's behavior. Unlike Telesia, who had been so shaken she'd shouted, he spoke calmly while bringing a spoonful to his mouth. He acted as if he hadn't heard anything.

Allen finished the dishes and put Mash and Myura to bed. Mash played knights during the day, so he was tired and fell fast asleep. Allen pulled the blanket up to his shoulders.

He returned from the children's room to the living room. Rodan and Telesia were both looking down. The water in their wooden cups had already gone lukewarm. Telesia anxiously clasped her cup in both hands, making the water tremble.

"So, Dad, can I hear the rest of the story now?"

"Right."

With that, Rodan began telling them what the Village Chief had said that day. Gerda had been there, too.

As he'd said earlier, they wanted Rodan and the others to double the number of boars they hunted within two years. They currently caught ten between October and December, and were being asked to catch twenty.

He went on to explain what he'd discussed with the Village Chief. This wasn't a request from the Village Chief. It was an order from the lord.

The lord had been asking for years whether they could increase the number of Great Boars they hunted. He'd made this request to the Village Chief, who had passed it on to Rodan and Gerda.

They had told the Village Chief that it would be difficult. Few people were willing to do it, and the twenty serfs who went hunting were always the same people. It wasn't as if they had refused new recruits, as they'd accepted commoners the previous year. Serfs had families, too. Many thought that a chunk of boar meat was too little compensation for risking their lives. Their families also objected.

"Then you turned him down this time, too, right?"

They had turned him down every year. Telesia said they could just refuse again this year.

"Apparently, the lord said that if we can't kill fifteen this year, before the goal doubles in two years, he'll recruit serfs from elsewhere in the territory."

It seemed the lord was determined to increase the number of boars they caught. He would gather serfs from throughout the territory if he had to, increasing the number of people who could join the hunt. Then they would increase the number of boars caught.

They had been told there were still plenty of serfs in the territory who wanted to go hunting.

"Huh? You mean they're going to increase the number of serfs in the village?"

"That's right. They'll increase the number of serfs in the village. The amount of land allotted to each person might shrink, and they might even take land away from serfs who don't go hunting."

Serfs couldn't own land. They had no right to it. At the lord's sole discretion, they could even lose land their families had farmed for generations. The Village Chief had told them as much.

"B-But that's...!"

After hearing that from the Village Chief, Rodan's vision had gone white. Allen was beginning to understand why Rodan had looked so gloomy.

The lord's envoy had apparently told the Village Chief that, after years of persistent requests with no results, this was the only option if they couldn't increase the number of boars hunted.

"Gerda and I talked about increasing the frequency of the hunts a little. I thought we'd gather everyone tomorrow and discuss it."

They would increase the hunts from once every ten days. That would raise their numbers. Rodan planned to tell the serfs who took part in the hunts that the hunts would be more frequent starting next month.

"Then if they raise the target again next year and the year after, we might end up having to accept new serfs anyway."

Allen, who had been listening to the whole discussion, finally spoke up.

(If they force themselves to hunt more often, more people might give up hunting.)

There was a reason the hunts were held once every ten days. It was a balance between the burden of hunting and the demands of daily life. More hunts meant more meat as a reward, but they also meant greater danger.

"Wha—?! You're right. That's exactly it."

Rodan was surprised by how calmly Allen said it, but he agreed that it was exactly right. That was what he was worried about.

"So, to solve that, they'd ultimately need to increase the number of people taking part in the hunts."

"Yeah, exactly. But we tried increasing the number last year and it failed. I don't know if anyone else will want to join, and even if they do, hunting will become more difficult."

Rodan answered Allen seriously.

After Rodan had been badly injured and collapsed, Allen had plowed the fields, done the housework, and looked after his younger brother. He had caught more than ten Alba Herons and desperately protected his family. To Rodan, Allen, who had supported the family, was more than just his eldest son. And—

"I have wisdom granted to me by the Creator God Elmea."

(I never thought I'd have to bring up the story I told them back then. Well, this might make them trust me more.)

"?!"

Rodan's eyes widened in surprise. Allen had confessed to Rodan and Telesia that he'd been given a trial that not even a hundred people could complete, and that the Creator God had granted him wisdom and strength to overcome it.

"Could you let me handle this? I think I can find a way to solve it."

Allen declared that he would try to resolve the current problem with the wisdom granted to him by God.

The next morning, Rodan, Gerda, and Allen were together at Rodan's house. Allen had said he wanted to continue the previous night's conversation when Gerda was there.

They couldn't proceed without Gerda's cooperation and approval, since Rodan and Gerda were the two leaders of the boar hunt.

"Allen, is it true you can safely increase the number of people taking part in the boar hunt?"

Gerda didn't seem to trust him as much as Rodan did. It was a proposal from someone who had never gone hunting before—and from a six-year-old child.

"I can't promise it'll be completely safe."

(Nothing about hunting is ever certain.)

Allen had recently started speaking to Gerda the same way he spoke to his parents. Gerda had told him not to be so polite.

"What?!"

Rodan and Gerda looked as if they thought it might be impossible after all.

"But I think we can increase the numbers more safely than with the method you two came up with. To begin with, there's no way you should make a newcomer take on the important role of tank."

(A low-level newbie with defense as soft as tofu playing tank...)

Back when Allen had been Kenichi, he'd spent countless hours hunting to strengthen his game characters. It added up to tens of thousands of hours. He'd hunted solo, in pairs, and while moving from one hunting spot to another. He'd tried all sorts of hunting methods, adapting them to the location and experience-point efficiency.

The boar hunt used a simple method: lure the boars to the hunting grounds, have the tank hold them in place, then finish them off. Allen recognized this as a method known as lure hunting or waiting in ambush.

He'd also hunted with newcomers, of course, and had built up a wealth of experience in helping them grow safely.

"Oh? You have a better way?"

"Of course. I'll explain it now, and..."

"Hmm? And what?"

"I'm joining the next hunt, too."

Allen announced that he would take part in the boar hunt. He was about to propose a safer way for the two of them to hunt even with newcomers.