Ch.159The Hunt of Women (2)

Four hours had passed since I sent the three women up the mountain.

Never in my life had I so despised the fact that my life wasn’t in third person.

Damn it! If this were an omniscient author’s perspective, I could have escaped this cursed first-person view and watched them fighting valiantly!

“Will they make it back alive?”

“That’s the thirteenth time you’ve asked that question.”

“But I’m that worried!”

“Have some patience. When there’s nothing we can do, sometimes waiting is the best option.”

His words were right.

I knew that well enough.

Just as pouring a hundred gold coins into the Temple of Logos won’t help your son pass an exam if he’s not meant to, and begging Medina’s priest with silver coins to make that man yours won’t work if it’s not meant to be.

“There’s a big difference between sentences that begin with ‘but’ and those that end with it. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

“…Vaguely.”

“It’s fortunate you understand even vaguely. The world is full of narrow-minded people who only see through their own perspective. As a sage, I cannot overlook such anti-intellectual tyranny. Since we’re on the topic, tell me what story you’d like to hear from the old days.”

“Anti-intellectualism…”

Surprisingly, there were quite a number of people who forgot that intelligence was necessary for human survival.

Enough to make one doubt whether humans were truly intellectual beings at all.

Of course, intellect and skill were separate things, and most anti-intellectualists weren’t truly hostile to intelligence—they were simply people who could only perform physical labor yet resented that the educated, who could read books and write, earned five or six times their minimum wage.

“What was the most annoying moment in your career as a sage?”

“The most annoying moment…? Well… there are so many it’s hard to narrow down…”

“Huh, that many?”

“Being old means having that many more experiences.”

As he spoke, Simon stroked his beard and raised a finger to provide an example.

“It was just after I turned forty… A village was suffering from drought, and I received a request to help them.”

“Help them? In what way?”

“Well… they had nothing to eat for the coming winter, so they wanted us to procure food through hunting and gathering.”

“They made that an official request?”

“It happens quite often, actually. When there’s a drought that’s not severe enough to tap into reserves, villagers pool their money to make a request. Hunting and gathering require specialized knowledge, so the Adventurers’ Guild sends professionals when requested.”

“Hmm…”

That made sense.

While there were young boys and girls like me who joined purely out of a sense of adventure, the Adventurers’ Guild also attracted experienced middle-aged and elderly experts in their fields.

If you wanted to filter out greenhorns and rookies, you could simply add “experienced candidates preferred” to the request conditions, or just drop a few words to the receptionist who would handle the request accordingly.

“So? What happened?”

“What happened? It turned into a complete disaster, of course. We gathered and hunted the resources they needed, but they demanded more.”

“More?”

“Yes. We provided enough food for them to survive the winter, but then they demanded feed and water for their livestock. They even demanded we bring them salt!”

“Oh my.”

I could guess how this story would end.

The Adventurers’ Guild wasn’t just for show.

They were the only organization in this world that had direct contracts with the gods, and their authority couldn’t be violated by anyone.

To treat an adventurer, a member of such an organization, with such disrespect was tantamount to having a death wish.

“Well… what happened next was predictable. We refused, they became angry, and eventually the Guild intervened.”

“The village was wiped out, I assume.”

“Exactly. We didn’t even have to act. The Guild determined it was a breach of contract by the employer, forcibly marked the request as completed, and then erased the village with an orbital strike.”

“Fools…”

The notion that rural people were simple and innocent was just the arrogant thinking of stupid city slickers.

Hadn’t I myself fled back to the city in horror after witnessing an orchard owner in the countryside beating a poor girl to death?

The ignorance and greed of the uneducated often far exceeded that of those raised in civilization, and when they crossed the line, this was the punishment they received.

In truth, the difference between ordinary people and adventurers was so stark that such incidents happened quite frequently.

Like the drunk who picked a fight with a frustrated adventurer and ended up being dismembered into 256 pieces, or the sixty-year-old martial arts master who dedicated his life to training only to have his neck snapped by a 17-year-old high school girl with aura powers—there were too many such stories to tell.

“Why do you think such incidents occur?”

“Because they can’t grasp the reality of it.”

Reality.

Perception.

Knowing that adventurers were powerful and actually feeling that power were two different things.

Just like how people casually walk past soldiers and police officers despite knowing they have a monopoly on legitimate force.

We could literally slaughter thousands or tens of thousands of ordinary people without breaking a sweat with mere gestures, yet at the same time, we had to risk our lives challenging monsters that surpassed even us.

But since such monsters weren’t found in villages and cities, neither were adventurers.

“I didn’t realize how powerful such a small grenade could be, or how loud guns and cannons were until I observed military training. It’s like that.”

“Haha. I agree. Seeing and feeling are quite different.”

It was natural for ordinary people to become adventurers, but socially speaking, adventurers were clearly the vulnerable ones.

No matter how skilled an adventurer might be, if someone decided to bombard them from the sky or launch thousands of missiles from a distant military base, they would simply die.

Of course, those at the Gem rank were exceptions—monsters destined to ascend as gods—but even someone like me would require at least a regiment to brigade-sized military force to be killed.

“They say humans in the Earth era couldn’t become this strong, right? That even with intense training, they couldn’t use aura and could die from a single arrow wound?”

“That’s correct. About 500,000 years have passed since we arrived in this world. That’s enough time for humanity to evolve to adapt to this world.”

“Hmm.”

When I read history books, what puzzled me most was the political systems.

Particularly that thing called ‘democracy,’ whose fundamental premise was ‘all people are equal.’

All people are equal? What an absurd notion!

Even the Sun God Nariakira Saburo was once an ordinary human before ascending to godhood through his immense contributions, as were the Four Great Gods.

Just looking at the night sky, one could see stars that were once human beings. How could one possibly categorize such people with ordinary humans under the umbrella of ‘equality’?

Even Earth-era humans, despite all being equally fragile, ultimately failed to achieve equality.

When you think about it, it’s obvious.

Even among the same people, some have business acumen while others don’t. Without strength, money and status were enough to dominate others.

Just like how ordinary people intimidate each other now.

“To think that humans must see and feel power to accept it—what ephemeral creatures we are.”

“You’re one to talk… a man who touched the sun with his bare hands…”

“I told you it wasn’t hot!”

“That’s precisely what’s strange about it.”

“…”

Well, I had nothing more to say to that.

Honestly, when even hot oil splatter makes people scream, confronting the sun, which is hundreds of times hotter, would have been impossible without the protection of a transcendent being.

“If the sun hadn’t been there, whose blessing would I have received? Karyl’s?”

“Well… seeing how you and your wife indulge yourselves every night, we can’t rule out Medina’s blessing.”

“…I’m a victim too.”

“As if.”

The young knight’s protest failed to reach the old sage.

Damn it, being milked daily like a dairy cow, yet unable to have my victim status acknowledged. Is this what they call an uneven playing field?

“More importantly. Look over there.”

“Hmm?”

“A flower has bloomed on the cactus.”

At Simon’s words, I turned my head to look at the mountainside.

And there, gradually coming into view, were one noblewoman and two elves walking toward us, covered in dust.