The Heavy Smoker and the Reaper of the Wheat Field (7)

“Adventurers, assemble!!”

After getting up, washing my face and washing up, and eating breakfast, the secretary slave called everyone together just as he had yesterday.

Frang and I quickly brushed only our teeth and went to the assembly point.

“Your master’s orders are to work hard and not sneak off and get caught like yesterday. Those assigned to harvesting, line up and collect your scythes.”

We received our tools and set off for the worksite.

Days like this continued for roughly two more days. I worked all day, and at night I either practiced magic in the tent or organized the logical progression for my paper.

‘Fuck. I can’t tell whether I’m a farmer, an adventurer, or an archaeologist.’

Just when I was beginning to wonder whether this would really count toward our monster-extermination record,

“Nord. Shouldn’t we head back soon?”

Frang said that while we were eating lunch on the third day.

I knew why. Running out of the food we’d brought was one reason, but there was a bigger one.

“I haven’t washed for three days now, and I feel so grimy….”

Frang said this with a slight pout.

The short-term serf experience disguised as a vermin-extermination quest made showering difficult. The bathhouse was in Sargadis, but the city gates closed by the time work ended.

For three days, Frang had wiped herself down inside the tent with a towel dampened in hot water I made with Hydro-Incontinence Pump and Burning Hand.

Adventurers were the sort of professionals who couldn’t wash often in the first place, but when you could see a city with a bathhouse right in front of you, staying like this was enough to induce an existential crisis.

“I was going to say the same thing.”

I answered while forcing down some dried rations. I valued cleanliness, but going without washing for about three days didn’t bother me that much.

But Frang was avoiding me because she was afraid she might smell.

That was why I wanted to go back too. It was the first time Frang had ever rejected physical contact from me, and it was mentally devastating. I felt as if more than half the reason for my fucking life had been taken away.

It wasn’t just that I couldn’t touch her breasts. We hadn’t had sex since coming here, either. Nighttime was our only free time, and if vermin happened to appear, we’d have to hurriedly get dressed and cause a scene, which would be pathetic.

Some bastard couple was fumbling with their pants at the exact moment enemies appeared and they had to fight? If it were me, I’d throw my scabbard at those assholes before the fight even started.

‘And cleanup would be a pain too.’

Consider the amount I ejaculated. Even one round gushed out like a busted bladder; was cleaning that up easy? Having the smell of semen wafting all over the tent would be fucking ridiculous too.

“Let’s go back. If necessary, we can wash there and come back.”

So after finishing lunch on the third day, I went to find the secretary slave.

“Sir. We’ll be going back tomorrow.”

“Understood.”

The secretary slave only said that and disappeared, but when we were about to start working afterward, Hotulusil suddenly appeared.

“I heard. You’re going back tomorrow?”

“Huh? Yes, we are.”

Since the farm owner had come to talk to me, I stopped working, figuring this was my chance. A seasoned wage thief never misses an opportunity.

“It’s a shame. It looked like the work would be finished quickly thanks to you. Was there some problem?”

“No, well, it’s not really a problem.”

Now that I thought about it, he had come because he’d heard we were leaving and wanted us to stay.

Well, how well had I worked? Without exaggeration, in just three days I alone had harvested an area the size of two or three sports fields. Frang was strong and diligent too, so she must have worked incredibly well. Of course he’d come to beg us to stay, even if he had to cling to our pant legs.

“We’ve simply run out of the food we brought, and my companion is having a hard time because she hasn’t been able to wash.”

“It’s not because the work is too hard?”

“No.”

He was really asking that straight out. Was he insensitive, or was he pressuring me? My impression was the former. Hotulusil didn’t seem like the sort of person who needled others.

Yerna had used to be like that too. She got bewitched by my paper and stole it in the end, but normally she really was one of the good ones among the professors I knew. I still wouldn’t forgive her even in death, though, now that she’d already turned me into a ‘fuck-elf.’

“I’ll provide the food. I’ll also tell you where you can bathe. Can you continue working, then?”

“Huh?”

He was offering us free food and a shower?

“Uh… I’ll discuss it with my companion.”

“Your companion was that dwarf, right? Let’s go now. Follow me.”

Fuck, he was damn pushy. Maybe living with slaves had made him act like a military man. Still, it was a chance to earn money without working, so I dragged my feet but followed him.

“That’s the situation. You two discuss it.”

Frang, who had been summoned from work, took off her hood and blinked. She pressed close to me and asked in a small voice,

“Nord, what do you think?”

“Let’s check the conditions first. They might serve us pig slop and put us in a stable when they say it’s time to wash. What about you, Frang?”

“If the place where we can bathe is decent, I think it would be fine to work a few more days.”

We exchanged opinions, then asked Hotulusil exactly what he would provide.

“Lunch will be sandwiches. Dinner will be soup ingredients, including meat, and bread. If you wish, I can have dinner cooked for you as well. There is a stream in the nearby forest where you can bathe. It’s about thirty minutes from here.”

Hotulusil answered our questions without hesitation. His tone was curt, but the conditions themselves seemed reasonable. He seemed awfully eager for us to stay.

Frang and I discussed it again and came to a conclusion.

“…We’ll try working just one more day tomorrow, for now.”

“Do that. I expect a favorable answer.”

And that evening.

We were given a forearm-sized piece of smoked turkey as “soup ingredients.”

“Nord. Do you want to stay here until the harvest is finished?”

“I’ll slow down my harvesting pace a little starting tomorrow.”

Hooked by the fucking delicious turkey meat, we decided to stay for a few more days. Damn it, we should’ve asked for it from the start.

“Frang. I’ll cook this time. Watch closely. I’ll show you a man’s cooking.”

“Hehe. You can do it next time, Nord. I’ll do it today.”

I declared this with tremendous enthusiasm, but Frang laughed and talked me out of cooking.

Her look was like that of a young mother gently stopping her little son from showing off in the kitchen because he wanted to help, which made me feel a little aggrieved. But after eating the finished dish, I shut my mouth.

‘Let’s not show off about cooking in front of Frang.’

All she’d done was take something like seasoning from her bag and add it, but it was unbelievably delicious.

This is just my personal opinion, but anyone who prepares special sauces or seasonings to add to cooking is genuinely good at cooking. Things like anchovy powder or gochujang seasoning paste.

Frang was like that too. She said it was a powder made by drying and grinding mushrooms, salt, and herbs, but it was practically an otherworldly version of Dasida, and fucking delicious.

Knowing that Frang, with cooking skills like that, would eat my terrible cooking and say it was delicious made me feel too guilty to cook.

***

And so the night of the third day passed.

“Nord. Wake up. You said you were going to wash with me.”

Frang, who had gotten up earlier than usual, woke me. As always, I woke later than Frang, conjured water with magic, and washed my face first.

“Huaaah….”

The dark blue sky just before dawn had me yawning widely.

“If you were sleepy, you should’ve just kept sleeping.”

Frang said this while wiping the gunk from my eyes. I turned my head away, politely refusing that overprotective kindness, and answered.

“I need to wash too. Even if I haven’t sweated much, it’s been three days since I washed.”

“That’s true, but still.”

If I didn’t wash, there was no point in Frang washing either. It would be awkward to fondle Frang when I smelled. I roughly rolled my shoulders to loosen up first.

“We won’t be late for the morning assembly if we wash and come back, right?”

“Since it’s thirty minutes away, we should be able to get back before sunrise, including time to wash.”

“I see. In other words… we’ll have to hurry if we want to do anything besides washing, right?”

“Huh? Uh, y-yeah. I suppose so?”

Frang understood what I was getting at and stammered. Feeling mischievous, I quickly scooped Frang into my arms.

─Flash!

“N-Nord?!”

Frang, who had slipped neatly into my arms like a princess, cried out in surprise. I gave her a wide grin and activated Beast Regression. Green mana covered my body and shimmered.

“Heh heh. It’s faster this way. Our Frang is so light it barely feels like I’m carrying anything.”

“B-but it’ll be hard on you, Nord. Besides, what if Beast Regression wears off while you’re harvesting?”

“What do you mean, what if? We’ll get more days of delicious free meals.”

I’d told Hotulusil too, but whether it wore off or not wouldn’t affect the work much. I rubbed my cheek against Frang in my arms and whispered,

“Put your hood on and hold tight. Little Engine Nord is departing!!”

“You’re impossible.”

Frang wrapped her arms around my neck. I kissed her lips, now close to mine, and set off at a vigorous run.

“Kyaaah!”

There was a hint of amusement mixed into her scream. With Beast Regression boosting it, my running speed was faster than an electric kick scooter.

Since Frang’s breasts completely blocked my view of my feet, I had to be a little careful. Still, without tripping, we arrived at the stream deep in the forest.

Gurgle gurgle gurgle gurgle─.

It was a small stream. It had a slightly resort-like feel, and it seemed like it would be nice to come here for a summer vacation. I wanted to see Frang in a swimsuit too.

My girlfriend would be fucking sexy and beautiful in anything she wore, so we’d have to come just the two of us so no one else could see her.

“The water’s a little cold.”

Frang muttered after dipping her hand into the stream. I squatted and dipped my hand in too.

Splash.

Tingle tingle.

“Oh, fuck. This is no joke.”

It felt a little like a cold bath. If we stayed submerged too long and didn’t dry off properly when we came out, we’d catch a cold. Would we have time to warm ourselves by the campfire after we got back?

“Frang. Could you hand me the basket we brought?”

“Here. Are you going to heat it with magic?”

“Yeah. We’ll need hot water for that.”

I took the basket, filled it with water, and set it down in front of me. Then I concentrated, gathered mana, and recited the spell.

“<Burning Hand>.”

Fwoooosh─.

After practicing for two days, I’d grown a little familiar with how to use the magic. It was basically a binary choice between ‘hottest possible’ and ‘least hot possible,’ but you didn’t need temperature control when heating water.

“A man’s cooking is always on high heat!!”

Sssssss─!

I plunged both hands into the basket filled with stream water. Like a water-filled electric heating pad, the magic heated the water in the basket without losing any power underwater.

─Bubble bubble.

The Flame Palm at maximum output, with mana poured into it, brought the water to a rolling boil in just a few minutes. I wondered what temperature this was, exactly. I vaguely remembered learning the formula somewhere, but I’d forgotten it.

“Pour this over yourself if you get cold. You can stay close to me too.”

I said this to Frang while lowering the output of both hands to the minimum.

Fwoosh─.

The light from my hands weakened, and they now looked as if they had merely gained a slight tint over their original skin color, like they’d been coated in fluorescent material. Frang looked at them in wonder.

“Wouldn’t it be hot if I touched that?”

“Probably not. You wouldn’t know what I meant if I called it a hand warmer. It’s about as warm as holding your hands near a campfire. It’s just warm.”

“Can I touch it?”

Frang came closer and fiddled with my hand.

“It really isn’t. When I use it, it only gets hot.”

“There’s a bit of a knack to handling mana.”

Frang had also succeeded in learning Burning Hand yesterday. She still hadn’t learned the other spells, though. Judging by what she said, controlling the heat output was still difficult for her too.

Anyway, after taking precautions against catching a cold, we took off our clothes. Neither of us felt awkward about washing together.

“Ugh, it’s cold.”

Frang entered the stream, clasped her hands together, and shivered. Since the water reached Frang’s chest, she would be colder than I was.

“Come here. My hands are warm.”

“Yeah. Touch the back of my neck.”

Frang swept back her hair, exposing the nape of her neck. Seeing her nakedly display one of the places men found attractive made my dick hard enough to burst.

“…It always ends up like this, huh?”

“It’s a physiological reaction.”

First, we quickly washed each other’s bodies. We soaped up with otherworldly soap, rubbed each other with my warm hands, and exchanged body heat in the chilly water.

Calling it washing each other was practically a euphemism for foreplay. Every time my hands touched her, Frang exhaled raggedly through half-lidded eyes. Her enormous breasts, which I hadn’t seen in a while, already had stiff nipples before my hands even touched them.

Sliiide─.

Frang came closer and wrapped her arms around my waist.

When we embraced standing up, Frang’s breasts touched my dick. My dick, too large for even Frang’s enormous breasts to fully enclose, protruded between the valley of her breasts and touched her soft cheek.

“…Want to?”

“Let’s.”

I nodded and moved with Frang into the shade of a rock.