Ch.11. Beginning (1)

So, to get straight to the point…

I seem to have been reincarnated into a medieval fantasy world.

When I came to my senses, I was lying in something resembling a crude baby crib, and my hands and feet were incredibly small.

The surroundings… felt like the interior of a crude wooden hut filled with furniture and odds and ends that strongly exuded a medieval atmosphere.

But the real reason I truly believe this world is a medieval fantasy realm is…

Because I witnessed small humanoid creatures with insect-like wings flying through the gaps in the crudely made plank walls.

※ ※ ※

The world is hell.

Let me say it again, this world has no dreams or hope.

As I suspected, this world is a typical medieval fantasy… but leaning more toward the darker side.

A world where man-eating goblins appear from the mountains behind us, and children enchanted by fairies disappear into the forest only to be found as corpses. Who would want to be born in such a world?

“……..”

To make matters worse, my current birth status isn’t even close to nobility, but rather a serf who’s worse than their scraps. I’m the son of a common man whose family has lived for generations as serfs on land belonging to some barony.

Far from being wealthy, people in the village die of starvation, and I’m the fourth son of an ordinary serf who is subordinate to a nobleman who isn’t incompetent… but just average for medieval standards.

I tried all sorts of desperate measures, but nothing worked. I don’t have a status window, nor any cheat skills. Far from having genius talent, I only have an emaciated body on the verge of death.

The only consolation is that my father in this life is in the top 1% of serf fathers who doesn’t casually inflict violence on me.

……..No joke, in this rural area, it’s not uncommon for drunk parents to beat their children to death.

Thinking about that, I should be grateful… but hell no. I want to pour resentment on my past self who used to criticize light novels.

Now that I’m actually living in starvation, I understand. Forget plausibility—just give me cheats and I’ll be satisfied. Please, please…

※ ※ ※

I turned three years old.

Honestly… I wonder if I should consider myself fortunate to have survived until now.

When the priest of our territory gave me baptism, I saw something sparkle, confirming that this is indeed a fantasy world, but the benefits of this fantasy world never reach me.

In other words, in this world where infant mortality rates soar through the roof, it’s already fortunate that I survived until the age of three.

Thanks to last year’s good harvest, I didn’t starve throughout the winter and was able to build sufficient immunity. That’s probably why I could return to daily life without major aftereffects even after suffering from a high fever once.

And… there’s really nothing a three-year-old child can do in our village.

Among children my age, I’m the only one who survived until three. Setting aside my mental age, the fact that there’s no one to play with gives me a peculiar feeling.

Moreover, this fantasy world has quite a lot of mischievous fairies with bad intentions and violent monsters.

Children my age disappear into the forest after being enchanted by fairies so frequently that my mother wouldn’t let me go outside our cramped house.

So all I could do when I was extremely bored was simple tasks like weaving strings with my hands. Spending time on such trivial tasks was terrible, but… I had no choice.

It felt like being buried somewhere, slowly dying.

※ ※ ※

A famine struck the village. ……..Damn it.

This year’s harvest was cut in half due to unusually little rainfall, but those damn tax collectors, who should be boiled in sewage, collected taxes just as they did every year.

My father and brothers curse the baron, who seems unaware of the situation, with hateful words. But my thoughts are a bit different.

The baron, while not exactly wise, isn’t incompetent. It would certainly be possible to reduce taxes a bit during a famine, so the cause of this taxation must be the collectors trying to pocket some for themselves.

Of course, knowing this doesn’t mean a three-year-old child could do anything about it.

Anyway, this terrible drought was enough to make our family’s thin grain porridge even thinner and more destitute.

Because of this, even I, barely three years old, had to follow my family to harvest tree fruits or edible wild plants like nettles from the mountains behind us for food.

I wonder if it’s permissible to gather like this in the baron’s forest, but they say that while hunting is prohibited, plant gathering is allowed.

And as I was picking sweet-sour berries, I suddenly thought:

I pray that next year will bring a good harvest without major problems. I earnestly wished this, silently praying to the god of this world whose name I don’t even know…

But the world ignored my wish. The famine continued for several years.

※ ※ ※

The year I turned five. There was a major change in my family composition in this life.

Originally, I had three older brothers and two older sisters, but… now only two brothers remain, as one brother and two sisters couldn’t endure this harsh medieval world and died.

My four-year-old little sister died of starvation, and the youngest, who didn’t even have a name, didn’t survive past one year.

My mother’s immunity, weakened by prolonged hunger, couldn’t withstand the epidemic that struck this area. After losing the youngest, my mother fell ill and eventually passed away. ……..There is no hope.

The ironic thing is that despite the famine continuing for several years, our food became more plentiful because our family, which once had more than ten members, was cut in half.

This absurd situation was enough to make me laugh bitterly… But soon after, I predicted that this would lead to a shortage of labor.

However, my prediction was wrong. What drove our family to starvation wasn’t a lack of labor. It was the rainfall, which was even less than last year’s already low amount, and consequently, the rock-bottom harvest.

And the year I turned six.

“……..Haha.”

I was abandoned in a forest quite far from our village, a place I had been told many times was dangerous. And on my birthday, no less.

It was truly the perfect birthday gift.

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My father had his own rational reasons for abandoning me in the middle of the forest.

In this era where everything is starving due to food shortages, I, who had just turned six, was too young to produce or provide meaningful labor, only consuming food.

Meanwhile, my second brother, now 14, and my eldest brother, 16, were actually helpful with farming or whatever else. So, in a situation of food shortage, all they could do was take me, who wasn’t helpful, and abandon me.

“……..Sigh.”

Though disgust wells up from the depths of my heart, part of me—the self that has become accustomed to this world’s common sense—thinks inwardly that at least my biological father had the minimal conscience not to eat me.

While the common religion in this world strictly prohibits cannibalism, faith offers no alternatives in the face of starvation. I’ve seen neighbors exchange children after enduring famine to the breaking point.

Of course, that doesn’t mean I can forgive being thrown into the middle of this forest and abandoned. At the point where they tried to kill me, it’s right to say there’s no longer any family relationship.

‘…But how do I actually survive?’

Comparing a real-world forest to this world’s forest… No. There’s no need to compare. How could a wild forest barely touched by human hands not be dangerous for a six-year-old child?

If even one goblin, about half the height of an adult, appears, I’ll just die. In the village, even a farmer can beat them to death with farming tools, but from my position, they’re man-eating creatures stronger than me.

Add to that wolves that can smell strong human scent, bears that tear humans apart, and all sorts of bizarre wild animals that have survived in this medieval fantasy world.

If all these animals are added… can I seriously survive even tonight?

I’ll die. I’ll definitely die. Even if I somehow hide, I’ll starve to death in a few days. I don’t have the knowledge to survive in the wild…

-…Rustle.

“—?!!!”

At that moment, I hear the sound of bushes parting.

It was such an obvious sound, clearly not natural but caused by the movement of some being, that even I could tell.

“……..”

My legs, no, my entire body won’t move. The fear seeping into my mind seems to have stiffened my muscles. The sound of my heart pounding madly echoes quietly in my ears.

‘…A deer?’

Turning my head toward the sound of the bushes, what entered my sight were antlers that appeared to belong to a deer, but… the decorations on those antlers suggested it was certainly not an ordinary deer.

It might be some bizarre magical beast whose name I don’t even know. Thinking this, I trembled and widened my eyes in fear toward it…

“Oh? A child in a forest like this?”

“……..???”

The being that revealed itself with a voice that tickled my ears was… a woman who looked like she was saying “I’m a druid” to anyone who saw her.

Between her vivid light green hair above her ears sprouted something like deer antlers and ears, and she was wrapped in a dark green and brown cloak… probably a druid.

Looking at her holding a staff in her hand, I racked my brain faster than I ever had before.

This is no time to worry about dignity or anything else. Right now, I’m a fragile child who will die if left alone. Therefore, my only choice, as someone who can’t afford to be picky about means and methods, is:

“P-please save me… My dad abandoned me here…”

To persuade the woman before me through emotional appeal, grabbing the rope that has descended in the midst of crisis.