Chapter 8
[Haniel’s Sticker Book (For Children)]
- Holy Power Stickers Currently Stored: 16
- Collected Sticker List: Thumbs Up, Stomp!, (Not Acquired), (Not Acquired), (Not Acquired)……
- Children can express themselves actively by placing stickers wherever they like!
- If you collect more stickers, a special collection might be created?
That was all the Holy Power I had collected since coming to the North.
When I first arrived in the North, I got ten stickers in one go. The rest were all from little errands like climbing one step of the carriage at a time, sleeping under my blanket, and brushing my teeth for three minutes.
But if I completed this errand, I would receive a whopping 200 Holy Power stickers!
If I got those, maybe I could actually be of some help to the North. And then perhaps even the Grand Duke, who had walls around his heart thicker than a fortress, might let me continue living here!
My eyes burned with determination.
I eagerly shoveled stew into my mouth with the spoon Butler Camilla had given me.
“Haap! Hup!”
Stew: defeated!
“Mrs. Butler, is there farmland somewhere around here?”
“Farmland? I suppose there probably is.”
Ding.
What was with that this-is-none-of-my-business attitude?!
At my blank expression, Butler Camilla chuckled.
“Child. You aren’t seriously thinking of farming, are you? In this North where it snows—or is cloudy in preparation for snow—360 days out of the year?”
“I…”
“Don’t even think about it. You’d be more productive going around collecting monster droppings.”
“B-but I still want to see it…”
“Hmm. The snow did happen to stop today, for once. I was planning to take you outside after feeding you some stew, but…”
I tugged firmly on the hem of her clothes.
“The Grand Duke said I could stay until the day after tomorrow!”
“Hm? When did he say that?”
“Earlier, he said I would probably die around the day after tomorrow!”
“A little brat like you will probably die here in… two days?”
“Doesn’t that mean I can stay alive here until the day after tomorrow?”
“Does that really mean that?”
I waved my arms enthusiastically.
“It does! It totally, totally does!”
It was an absolutely ridiculous argument, but for some reason, Butler Camilla looked down at me and twitched her eyebrows.
“…You’re really adorable. Enough to tug at my heartstrings. And you’re just grimy enough to look like a freshly dug potato.”
A potato?!
“That’s an honor!”
Butler Camilla suddenly scooped me up into her arms.
I did my best to make myself look as appetizingly potato-like(?) as possible.
When our eyes met, Butler Camilla’s eyebrows twitched again.
“…Grimy. Cute. Sigh. Whatever. Let’s go!”
“Yaaay!”
Wrapped tightly in a huge blanket—there were no children’s clothes…—I went outside.
Clutching a hoe I’d borrowed from the butler.
A short while later.
Haniel suffered another spectacular defeat at the hands of hoeing.
“It’s hard!”
It was all well and good that I’d managed to persuade Camilla to bring me to the farmland—or what looked like farmland.
Kaaang!
The entire ground was frozen solid, making it incredibly hard.
With a child’s pathetic strength, the blade of the hoe couldn’t even break through the surface.
And the giant hoe was so heavy!
If Camilla hadn’t secretly helped from behind, Haniel wouldn’t even have been able to raise the hoe properly.
“Children these days sure enjoy some peculiar games. It’s hard to keep up with the times…”
“I won’t loseee!”
Thunk! Clang! Thunk! Clang!
Haniel diligently raised the hoe and slammed it into the ground.
But—
[Challenge! Hoeing! (0/5)]
Why isn’t it going up?!
Of course, it wasn’t as though any soil was actually being dug up by the hoe blade!
And it was true that the fundamental essence of hoeing—mixing and turning the soil—wasn’t happening at all!
But still! Still!!
Thunk! Clang! Thunk! Clang!
I’m hoeing! This is totally hoeing! I might even be in the upper ranks among six-year-olds!
Haniel cried out desperately in her heart.
Then, the letters floating before her eyes flickered as if they were hesitating.
[Challenge! Hoeing!……]
Pop!
[Challenge! Hoeing! (0.00000001/5)]
Oh, come on! You gave me a pity point!
It was even stingy!
“Oh my. Look at you go. Of all the six-year-olds I know, you’re the best at… hammering?”
“Ghk.”
It’s hoeing…!
Haniel looked down at the ground she’d been tormenting.
Despite all that commotion, there wasn’t even the tiniest scratch on the earth.
I suppose that’s how it looks…
She had no choice but to admit it.
Hoeing frozen ground is pointless.
In other words, she needed to do real hoeing that actually had an effect.
Simply performing the action wasn’t enough. She had to fulfill the purpose and meaning behind the action as well.
All right. Then what now?
Hoeing = beginning of farming = need thawed soil = to thaw the ground…?
Haniel blinked.
Then she abruptly turned toward Camilla.
“Um, where is the Grand Duke?”
Vasily strolled leisurely through the village.
Suddenly, the whole thing struck him as absurd.
That little brat. Doesn’t she have any fear?
Where exactly did she think she was, coming here all excited?
And now, what was this nonsense about farming?
She really was an absurd little child.
Vasily clenched his fist, as though trying to erase the lingering sensation of the child’s touch from his hand.
He had always hated things that were young and weak.
Children?
Naturally, he didn’t like them.
The little brat was round and sturdy-looking, and admittedly, there was something cute about her.
But that was all.
After all, he’d left her in the hands of Camilla, the vice commander known as the Knight of Ice, so by now…
She was probably already on her way out of the territory without so much as a peep.
Good riddance, Baby Hippo.
He gave a short, derisive snort.
Lost in various thoughts, he soon found himself at the village warehouse.
“What? You’re saying the salt was mixed with sand?”
“Yeah.”
Vasily nodded languidly.
Even sitting carelessly atop one of the wooden crates in the warehouse, the man looked like a picture.
A somewhat… fierce and terrifying picture, perhaps.
The supply officer who had returned that morning wore a troubled expression.
“The sacks the southerners showed us as samples were perfectly fine, so I thought we were safe. What on earth happened?”
“Take the whole lot back and return it. And if you’re in the mood, punch one of them in the gut while you’re at it.”
“…Punching them doesn’t exactly make us any money.”
Ruden, the head of the merchant caravan that had just returned from the South, sighed.
He was also one of the knights in Vasily’s order.
“The times have changed, Your Highness.”
“Then what do you fight with?”
“Instead of fists, they throw things like lawsuits at each other. It’s an elegant, lengthy, and expensive way to fight.”
“What a boring age. …Well, I suppose it can’t be helped now.”
After the war ended, his mercenary corps had taken on various roles necessary for managing the Bertus territory.
Ruden had been in charge of logistics on the battlefield.
So he had naturally been assigned similar duties here.
The only difference was that the goods he handled had changed from weapons to everyday necessities.
Quite a bit.
“Regardless, I’m sorry, Your Highness. I can’t believe I made such a mistake.”
Ruden wiped his glasses and bowed deeply.
“It isn’t your fault that the southerners are sneaky bastards.”
Vasily dismissed the matter with a wave of his hand as he looked at Ruden and his subordinates.
“You should still have some uses left on the Northern Crystal Portal. Go back.”
“Ah… there’s a problem.”
Ruden scratched the back of his head.
“We used up all the Crystal Portal passes this time.”
“What?”
“We actually discovered along the way that we were short on sugar and cotton fabric, so we had to make a few extra trips back and forth. That used up everything.”
“……”
Vasily fell silent.
A Crystal Portal Pass was an item that allowed one to use a teleportation portal.
The finger-sized, crystal-shaped magical artifact was absurdly expensive.
Therefore, there was an unspoken rule to avoid wasting its uses as much as possible.
The pass Ruden had possessed was probably their last one.
“Ruden, you…”
“Um… Your Highness.”
At that moment, Ruden spoke absently.
“By any chance… did you get married while I was away?”
“What?”
“If not… it seems you’ve suddenly become a single father with a child.”
What the hell is he talking about?
Following Ruden’s gaze, Vasily abruptly turned around.
And lost his ability to speak.
[illu004]
Because he had discovered a picture of what appeared to be a lumpy potato.
“Gasp!”
Below the window.
A pair of pink eyes peeking out widened slightly.
“Hmm?”
The little brat cautiously checked Vasily’s reaction before looking down at her sketchbook.
Then—
“Gasp! I opened the wrong page!”
She hurriedly flipped to the next page.
What is that little brat doing?
[illu005]
On closer inspection, it was a bundle of scrap paper made by binding old newsletters together, repurposed as a sketchbook.
And she was holding it up triumphantly like a picket sign.
Apparently unable to reach high enough, the child was standing beneath the window with only her eyes barely visible.
She glanced nervously at Vasily, then went,
“Next, next!”
Flip, flip.
And rapidly turned to the next page.
