SML Ch 18

Chapter 18

The Leisurely Youths and the Lord

Reynald and the youths returned safely to the castle. The amount of grain they had brought back was much more than expected. Although there were bits of stone and rat droppings mixed in here and there, even after filtering all of that out and picking only the edible wheat grains, the quantity was still considerable.

By noon the next day, countless grains were spread out across the sun-drenched courtyard of the castle. It seemed they intended to thoroughly wash, dry, and then grind them into flour. The grinding process was handled by other villagers, as those who had risked their lives to sneak into the Ratman village and steal the grain were exempted from further labor.

Reynald concluded his own responsibilities by handing over the Ratmen’s agricultural tools they had taken as loot to the blacksmith. The smithing woman was delighted to finally have something to do, and she eagerly set to work modifying the tools into equipment and weapons suitable for humans.

As Reynald watched the woman and her companion transporting the tools, he felt a question rising but chose to keep his mouth shut. It was rare, but not unheard of.

As he left the forge and walked on, he saw half a dozen people gathered near the storage building. They seemed to be trying to retrieve something, and aside from one man, the rest were all women. Reynald tilted his head at the sight of a one-armed middle-aged man and a two-armed woman struggling to carry out a heavy mortar. It wasn’t just his imagination—he was indeed curious now. Casually, he asked Heide, who was walking beside him.

“Come to think of it, there seem to be very few older men around here.”

“Huh? Well, that’s true.”

“Is there a particular reason?”

“A reason? Not exactly… They just all die young.”

Heide responded casually, as if it were no big deal. According to him, about 70 to 80 percent of the men in this village died before they turned forty. Many died from illness or accidents, but the most common cause of death was monsters.

Well, that made sense. In such a dangerous place, to go grain-poaching like it was nothing—it was no surprise their lives were short. And doing nothing wasn’t an option either, since that would mean starving to death.

Heide added that those who managed to live long were usually the ones who had suffered major injuries when they were younger and could no longer fight monsters. The one-armed middle-aged man they’d just seen was such a case. Since he no longer had to fight, he likely faced fewer dangers.

Upon hearing this, Reynald instinctively glanced at Heide. Picking up on the meaning behind the look, Heide gave a wry smile and rolled up his left trouser leg to the knee. Reynald nodded in understanding.

“I can still walk somehow, but if any force is applied, my knee screams in pain. Even going up and down stairs hurts a bit. I’m used to it now, so it’s manageable…”

“That still sounds quite difficult.”

“If I had applied the herbs earlier, maybe it wouldn’t have turned out this bad. But my friends ran into two ogres while gathering herbs and got completely wiped out. I had to wait, and by then, no matter how much I applied, the damage was done.”

Reynald nodded with a bitter expression, though Heide laughed it off as if it were nothing. Still, it didn’t seem like he was truly unaffected—he kept fidgeting with his shaggy hair throughout the conversation. Evidently, it wasn’t a pleasant memory for him.

A while later, Heide excused himself, saying he had work to do, and went inside the building, leaving the idle lord, Reynald, to decide on a stroll around the castle.

‘Still… this is a brutally hard place to live.’

That thought flashed through Reynald’s mind. Of course, he had noticed as much the moment he first set foot in this domain, but seeing the scar on Heide’s knee made the reality hit harder.

Perhaps Heide’s current condition was the future of those youths who had gone on the grain raid the previous night. Actually, Heide’s fate might be considered lucky. With worse luck, they might not live to see another day.

Even if they had survived this time by sheer luck, continuing such reckless endeavors would eventually lead to tragedy. It wasn’t just pessimism—it was statistics. Perhaps the fathers or grandfathers of these youths had already succumbed to such misfortunes and met untimely deaths.

Reynald let out a sigh for no real reason. One errant thought had sent his mind spiraling into gloom.

‘…This mood is awful. I need to move my body a bit.’

Though he’d exerted himself running from the Ratmen the previous night, that alone wasn’t enough to wear down someone like Reynald. He recalled that somewhere in the castle there was a training ground. A few hours of sword practice might help him shake off the heaviness in both body and mood.

‘Speaking of which, where are the security squad guys? Haven’t seen them around.’

Maybe they were still curled up in their rooms, recovering from the previous day’s exhaustion. With that thought, Reynald headed toward the training ground, planning to look for them afterward. He had no particular reason to speak with them, but he felt that talking with someone might improve his mood.

However, when Reynald actually arrived at the training ground, he could only stare blankly at the unexpected sight before him.

“What on earth are you lot doing here?”

Were they imitating the grains drying in the sun in the courtyard? The youths were sprawled across the floor of the training ground like corpses, basking in the sunlight.

Some were snoring as if taking a nap, while the ones awake stared blankly at the clouds drifting overhead with zero motivation. If they’d been lying in bed, he could’ve excused it—but why here of all places?

“I asked what you were doing.”

Even more baffling was the fact that they didn’t even bother to stand or greet him despite the lord’s arrival. Not knowing how to interpret the situation, Reynald nudged Lyndon in the ribs with the tip of his boot. Only then did he get a response.

“Resting, sirrr.”

“Why here of all places? Couldn’t you rest in your rooms?”

“It’s colder inside, sirrr.”

“Colder? Can’t you use a blanket?”

“The older folks decided to do the laundry out of nowhere and took every scrap of cloth in the castle, sirrr.”

“They did? Well, then use firewood at least—”

“We only use firewood at night, sirrr. Sunlight’s warmer during the dayyy.”

“……”

Lyndon muttered sleepily, then promptly fell back asleep. But Reynald had heard enough to piece things together and clicked his tongue. So, the issue was the weather, apparently.

Looking up, the sky was indeed exceptionally bright for winter. On such days, it made sense to do laundry with all the available cloth or to sunbathe. There wasn’t much wind either, so just lying still might actually be warmer than staying indoors.

Moreover, the area surrounding the castle was mostly wasteland, meaning there wasn’t much firewood to collect. Sure, they’d gathered some in the spring and autumn near the forest, but the supply was so limited that they only used it for heating at night. During the day, they didn’t light fires at all. So their complaints about the rooms being colder made some sense.

‘Still, this… it looks like a bunch of fish laid out to dry.’

The sight of twenty-some sturdy men sprawled out on the training ground like salted mackerel was unlike anything Reynald had ever seen, even during his days as a knight commander. Sure, his subordinates had pride and wouldn’t behave like this, but even the soldiers in the monster subjugation squads never lay around like this for sunbathing.

The youths didn’t care that their hair and clothes were picking up dirt. Even Alex, who usually carried himself with a certain dignity, was snoring away. Apparently, this kind of sunbathing was quite natural for the youths of this land.

That he had been worrying over such carefree fellows—Reynald clicked his tongue in disbelief and sat down near the entrance to the training ground. Volant, who had been lounging in the distance, lifted his head slightly and looked at him.

“It’s not like we’re doing this for fun, my lord. It’s just that there’s nothing to do.”

“Seriously, even so… Can’t you find something to pass the time?”

“Do you think that’s possible in a place like this? Out in the countryside?”

Volant let out a chuckle, and Reynald, unable to counter, chuckled in return. It was true—this was a barren village with nothing around. There wasn’t even enough food to eat, so brewing alcohol was out of the question. And unlike the capital’s youth, there were no gambling dens or pleasure districts to frequent.

Still, they were certainly playing in the dullest way imaginable. The best pastime they could come up with in their spare time was sunbathing?

“You should lie down too, my lord. It’s quite nice.”

“No thanks. But seriously, you don’t even look tired—why are you lazing around? Do something productive.”

“If productivity is what you’re after, we did that yesterday. And if we go wandering around outside, we’ll get roped into laundry duty or flour grinding and have our backs broken. The elders said they’d exempt us from work today because of yesterday, but if they see someone walking around, they’ll drag us off to help anyway.”

So they were basically just slacking off. Well, considering they had been quite productive the previous day, Reynald couldn’t exactly fault them. He gave a wry smile and turned his head, suddenly remembering why he had come here in the first place. That’s right—he had meant to train.

He could use the remaining space while the others were tucked away in a corner, but training in front of spectators didn’t sit well with him. Still, there was an alternative. Most of the youths were splayed out like soggy rags, but a few seemed to be merely caught up in the mood rather than truly exhausted. If that was the case…

“You there—if you don’t want to go outside, how about moving your body a little here instead?”

“Huh? Right here?”

Volant tilted his head but got up nonetheless. It seemed he was at least a little intrigued.