"Communication with Storm Border has been restored. It seems that only outside the village does the signal suffer from mana magical interference."
Shiomi reported their current situation to the ship, roughly charting the route from their landing site to this 23rd village and noting the Jötunn giants active in the wilderness. He then shut off the communication device.
"Then we'll rest here tonight. Whether we wait for Storm Border to relocate near the village tomorrow or depart directly from here depends on the situation." Scáthach nodded in understanding.
This was Gerda's home. Though the village was small, each villager nearing thirteen who owned their own dwelling received a house that wasn't cramped. No wonder Gerda offered to host Shiomi and the others.
Besides her own room, there were two extra empty rooms that could be tidied up for lodging.
"But it really is cruel, this Lostbelt..." Shiomi remarked.
"Yeah." Scáthach glanced from the kitchen toward Morgan and Artoria chatting with Gerda inside the house.
According to Gerda, villagers must leave the village upon turning 25. Whether they're devoured by beasts, crushed by giants, or trampled to death outside—any outcome is possible. In any case, surviving beyond that age is impossible.
Furthermore, in this village, those who fail to conceive a child with a partner between the ages of 14 and 15 must also depart the village.
It was said that all villages from the first to the hundredth followed this practice.
When recounting these matters, Gerda's demeanor was utterly matter-of-fact, accepting it as a natural law.
Only children and the adults raising them could dwell within the hundred villages created by the gods and their servants.
Even though this fate would be hers in just over two years, Gerda felt no distress. Instead, she was puzzled by the grim expressions on Shiomi and the others upon hearing this, wondering if she had brought up an unpleasant topic.
"It seems we're the ones overreacting and frightening her," Shiomi remarked. "Unlike in Britannia, humans here don't have short lifespans—it's that the environment is too harsh. Once they reach a certain age, they must die... It's almost like a less developed era."
"More accurately, this place has never been very developed," Scáthach interjected. "Perhaps that's why this world was pruned in the first place," she added.
"Just thinking about it feels sad," Shiomi mused, lifting the pot lid to inspect the simmering fish broth before sighing deeply. "Fourteen or fifteen..." At that age, Sakura, Caren, and Goku were still fretting over their own troubles, yet here people have to... Sigh..."
"It's best not to dwell on it, my dear disciple," Scáthach reminded him. "You are the Master of Chaldea in Proper Human History. Your duty is to eliminate all Lostbelts and resolve the crisis of Humanity's Bleaching."
"Master, don't worry. I know what's important," Shiomi said, folding his arms. "It's just that I suddenly thought of those in Britain. The people I originally intended to save ended up fighting for me, dying for me... I had planned to lead them away from their doomed fate."
"But this is a Lostbelt, not an Anomaly World. Neither of us knows if there's any way to take the residents here with us, to ensure they won't vanish even after leaving their original world," Scáthach added.
"Seems I've lived a few thousand years for nothing—now I'm getting sentimental over the plight of Lostbelt residents," Shiomi said with a bitter smile. "And it takes my Master to remind me."
Scáthach didn't see it that way. "This is a good thing. If you'd lost even this shred of compassion, I'd be the one worried."
"Enough of that." Shiomi lifted the pot from the stove. "Dinner's ready."
Gerda had offered to host them, but he felt it was only right to return the favor by cooking himself.
Though the kitchen was ancient, Shiomi, having been baptized in Britannia, knew well how to use Magecraft to achieve kitchen techniques rivaling modern technology.
The unfamiliar tastes and aromas delighted Gerda immensely.
Unlike Shiomi and the others, who ate slowly and deliberately, the young girl happily tucked in with gusto.
"You Envoys are not only gentle and powerful, but also such skilled cooks! I wish I could stay with you longer!" Gerda's voice brimmed with delight. "But I know you must depart tomorrow, returning to the divine realm, right?"
"In a sense, that's not wrong," Morgan nodded thoughtfully.
"Truth be told, we're undergoing a divine trial," Shiomi suddenly interjected. "We must walk back to the gods' dwelling. Do you know how to reach it?"
"Hmm... I'm sorry. Today was my first time leaving the village. If I hadn't met the Envoys, I might have perished while gathering herbs." Gerda's voice fell, tinged with disappointment.
"So aside from other Envoys, no visitors have ever come to the village?" Artoria inquired. "Like people from other villages, for instance?"
"No, because the outside is dangerous. The village is safe, and we have plenty of food. There's no need to leave..." Gerda paused mid-sentence, her expression suddenly blank. "I remember now!"
"What?" Scáthach asked.
"About a month ago, an older sister came to the village. The gate's protective spell had malfunctioned, and she helped fix it," Gerda told them. "But that older sister stayed less than half a day before the Envoys took her away. Seems she must have done something wrong..."
"An older sister?" Scáthach raised an eyebrow slightly.
Gerda hadn't grasped the deeper implications of this incident.
Only Casters or Servants capable of wielding Primordial Runes could repair the village's barrier and gate sigils.
If it was a Servant, they were likely summoned to this Lostbelt by the Counter Force, then discovered and captured by Skadi and her Envoys.
As for whether they'd been executed, Shiomi suspected it was unlikely—they were probably just imprisoned.
"So, what did that big sister who helped repair your village gate sigil look like? What was she wearing?" Morgan continued questioning Gerda, intent on gathering intelligence through appearance and attire to deduce the Servant's True Name.
"Hmmm... Let me think. I wasn't the one who hosted her, so I only caught a glimpse from afar when the Servants took her away," Gerda strained to recall. "I think she wore brown clothes, different from ours..."
"That's not quite enough information," Artoria decided it best not to press Gerda further.
"Ah, I remember now! That older sister had orange hair!" Gerda added. "It was so striking, impossible to forget!"
"Cough cough cough!"
Then, Shiomi, who was eating coarse bread with fish soup, began coughing violently.
...
If you'd like to support my work and unlock advanced chapters, you can follow me on p-@-treon.
[email protected]/PinkSnake (100 Chapters Ahead).