15: You know, the things you find out later are surprisingly numerous, huh?

Whether or not we actually go to the dragon's territory remains uncertain. I told Leifan to forget about that for now and focus on building the village. That ended the conversation for the moment.

First things first—since we’re boosting the village’s defense, I’m prioritizing having Leifan build fences.

We’re raising the defense level beyond the original plan.

Reason being: if something like a large-scale movement of that mysterious hydra happens, at the very least, the villagers should be able to handle it themselves.

Honestly, this frontier land is a high-risk zone for monster incursions.

Better safe than sorry.

That said, there’s something I need to do.

"Miss Seilra. Got a sec?"

I call out to Seilra, the widow working sweat and dirt in the small experimental farmland within the village.

She lost her husband young, seemed lost—then showed up here with news of the settlement project.

"Yeah? What is it, Craft?"

Sweat clung to her skin, a few strands of hair sticking to her nape.

Somehow, she had this weird kind of charm.

"Uh, right—Seirara, you wanted a shop, right?"

"Yes. I heard the settlement would exempt us from master fees and guild dues."

"Yeah. That’s written in the documents the trade guild’s been holding."

Normally, someone from the trade guild should’ve come in person. But instead, they just shoved everything onto the production guild. If one of those smug bastards shows up later, I’ll jack up the price so hard it’ll hurt.

"What kind of shop did you have in mind?"

"No, not yet. I’m still studying. I couldn’t handle anything too specialized."

"Then how about a general store?"

"A general store?"

"Right. For now, just everyday goods and consumable weapons."

“Huh? Aren’t those handed out already?”

“Yeah. But that’ll end in a few years.”

“Even if we start now, there’s no one to sell to…”

“That’ll change soon enough. Everyone’s getting paid the same flat rate for labor right now. Might as well start practicing.”

“Got it. I’ll definitely take you up on that.”

And so, the shop of the striking widow Seira—Seira’s Shop—was officially opened.

For now, it’s just a makeshift setup: a mat and a tent in front of the temporary housing. But a proper storefront is planned soon.

The goods are consumables—arrows, mostly. Naturally, they’re already being distributed, so they won’t sell.

But everyone knows that.

This is still just practice.

Jitarou’s been bringing in berries he gathered from the woods lately, and dried berries are selling as a treat.

Also, Seira has two children.

They were running around, helping out in the village or playing, full of energy.

◆

"Salinto, got a sec?"

"Yeah."

I call Salinto after he finishes building the village fence and has free time.

"You wanted to run an inn, right?"

"Yeah. My dad ran one, and I was supposed to take it over. But both parents died from the plague..."

"That's rough."

"Sure, that part's bad enough. But then they stole my master's share too."

"Damn it. Why the hell do those sharks never stop circling?"

Probably got targeted by some shady merchant when things got messy.

I hate unfairness.

"That's why I'm desperate to rebuild the inn. I know it's risky, but I volunteered here, in this frontier town where they'll actually issue a master's share."

"Wait, really? Cool. Then let's go all out and make that dream happen!"

"Yeah... yeah!"

We had the inn built pretty big, thinking ahead. The ground floor’s a tavern—people who wanted to run one moved in.

Thanks to the stamina potions, work time shot up and efficiency climbed.

Most importantly, the townsfolk were fired up.

The village was growing faster than anyone could’ve imagined.

◆

“Is this really only been half a year since we started settlement?”

“Yes. We welcome you all with open arms!”

The village had turned into a little festival.

That day, they’d opened the adventurer’s guild branch and started accepting new settlers.

The guild staff came with the new settlers, and since an adventurer party was along too, it doubled as escort duty.

Kyle, the representative, went over to greet the guild staff and the new settlers.

Then the adventurer party came rushing over when they saw my face.

“Hey! Craft!”

It was Raidock’s party—the same one I’d first teamed up with when I became an adventurer, the same ones who’d stayed on as escorts for the settlement.

“Raidock! Back to escort duty?”

“Not just that. We’re settling here for a while.”

“What?”

Raidock’s adventurer rank was C. Most of his crew were probably C or D.

A crew that strong setting up camp in this frontier village?

“What’s the deal with that?”

“Huh? You think we’d have trouble with monster slaying around here? Back then there wasn’t a proper base, so we couldn’t get this far. But now? Look at this place. It’s a full-fledged village. No shortage of supplies.”

“That… might be true.”

Luckily, the reward for slaying common monsters is paid by the land’s lord. In this case, that’s Lord Bairoroad, the Marquis of the Frontier—Kyle’s father.

The adventurer’s guild handles the paperwork. No need for us to think about it.

“Meh, honestly? Sounded fun.”

“Fun?”

“Honestly, that’s the kind of answer a proper adventurer would give… weird?”

“No. That’s totally you.”

Raidock paused, then muttered, staring at the sky.

“Kinda. I do regret letting you leave the party.”

We’d been on a team together back when I first became an adventurer.

Back then, we were all green. Nobody had complained about my magic yet.

But then, riding that unstoppable wave from F-rank straight up to E-rank, finally getting close enough to D-rank—was when my anchor became impossible to ignore.

Ranks aren’t given to parties. They’re given to individuals.

But if the party doesn’t succeed, no one sees your individual effort.

A successful party is the adventurer’s success.

We had to decide.

Whether to cut me loose, to move forward.

In the end, I was the one who left the party.

After that, I kept joining new beginner groups, and kept repeating the same damn experience.

They called me a mouthy mage, that kind of thing.

“Hey. Ain’t mad. A party with mismatched strength is dangerous.”

“Yeah, that’s true. But you know what the guild said about you?”

"Talker magician, right?"

Stuff like "One-finger mage" or "Talker magician"—can't remember any of that.

"True, only some of 'em. They're loud, that's all."

Another name for it?

Four years as an adventurer, never heard of it.

"Veteran adventurer mentor. Though the newbies I helped? They're too embarrassed, too guilty to say much about it."

"Never heard of that."

"Course not. Even after I trained you, I had to kick you out of the party to move forward. Can't say that face-to-face, not with that weight on my chest."

"……"

"Anyway, yeah, plenty of jerks made fun of you. That's just the life of an adventurer."

"Know that. But..."

Funny thing is, when I was quitting adventuring, there weren’t many new parties around. Mostly got picked up by veteran groups, or joined ones that came from other towns.

…Yeah, I guess the kind who made fun of me were usually those fresh-from-the-city veteran squads, like the ones led by Marbolo.

“Anyway, it’s not just that. If we’re doing well, we’re helping this frontier village, right? That’s something, isn’t it?”

I feel my eyes burn, but I clamp down on my molars and keep the sweat from spilling out.

“Yeah. I’ll rely on you.”

“Leave it to me.”

Raidock’s grip was solid—like iron.