Fushi no Kami: Rebuilding Civilization Starts With a Village

Summer in the city is passing casually.

Ser Georges' lectures tend to rest after a few days at the Consulate.

I'm still busy talking at a face-to-face study group, but I've been informed of some serious reasons.

I cannot help but know that I am helping Sir George, who is the entrance and exit point for the equipment.

For example, there is a crossbow gun on the city wall.

It is usually stored inside a wall tower to avoid being damaged by wind and rain, but lately, half of the days that are not rainy are sunny.

With strings stretched.

Crossbow guns fire, and arrows like spears are loaded.

I did the job the other day of arranging spare parts for those crossbow guns.

Whenever you use it, don't hesitate to break it.

There are large bandits nearby.

Tension with neighboring cities is on the rise.

There is no such information.

This time, the imminent danger to the city Sakura is rather due to a third enemy that is deterring such conflicts between humans.

The monster, the common enemy of mankind.

History has seen the destruction of cities and the decline of mankind to such an extent that it is more than a natural enemy of mankind.

At last, I can hear the footsteps in my ears in this world.

When I heard about its existence in the village, I didn't really know what kind of existence it was, but I learned a lot in the study of the Military Sons Association.

It turns out that human force is mostly for monsters other than policing.

Because the city is in such a state, if I try to go outside the city walls to go to Bergo's as usual, the gatekeepers will sneak up on me.

If anything happens, run this way.

Together with the words, the guards glanced at the crossbow gun on the gate.

"From the prisoner's quarters, this is the closest place today."

"Thank you for your advice. Don't forget when you're there."

I have no choice but to say so, hoping that the time will not come.

Well, I've already fought Master Bear once.

It's only been a year since then, so there won't be a second count.

It is impossible for a busy Reaper to set such a schedule to meet again in such a short period of time.

When you see the usual digging cabin, Belgo and the others gently raise their hands and greet you.

I will work with you today as well.

The feeling was strange.

To cite a recent experience, it was close to what I felt when I was targeted by a wolf in the woods where I dived with Mr. Van.

When you feel a life-targeting presence, it seems that a state of emergency is issued in the brain, the scenery is clearer, the acoustics are wider, the odor is more delicate, and the perception is renewed.

The world is perceived more intensely.

It itself can be tasted several times if you are hunting. I'm used to it.

However, it is usually triggered by an external stimulus.

The scent of the raider's nervous sweat mixed with the smell of the atmosphere.

Footsteps sneaking up from behind as the grass and trees rub against each other.

A sharp glance glistening slightly into the darkness of the chestnut.

Detect one or more of them and determine that the brain is dangerous.

This time, it seemed strange because I didn't sense any abnormalities in vision, hearing, smell, touch, or, of course, taste.

In words, the brain felt it directly.

It's impossible for the brain, which has only information processing power, to feel something without passing through other organs.

If possible, telepathy, direct brainstem communication, etc.

In the memory of the previous life, it was used in some professional positions, but I have never seen it in this life.

With that in mind, he stands up and looks at the opposite side of the city and the plains where the forest can be seen in the distance.

I feel something from there.

There is no abnormality. One blink.

There is no abnormality. One blink.

There is no abnormality. One blink. I found an abnormality.

The contour is four-legged beast. Judge from experience that he is a wolf.

A stray wolf coming out of the woods is no wonder, except that the omens were strange.

Grab one of the shovels the prisoners are using to clean up the dirt and alert Bergo and the others.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it looks like a wolf has come out of the forest. Get something to be a weapon..."

In the middle of my words, I noticed something strange.

As the shadow of the wolf approaches, a faint double bass sounds.

I look around just in case, but nothing imitates a drum.

So this double bass is the footsteps of that wolf - no, wolfish.

As the bass grows louder, so does the contour.

It is difficult to understand because it is running on a plain that is not subject to comparison, but in any case it exceeds the wolf's body.

I knew it. I had a feeling it was thin.

A suspicious shadow appeared with strange sensations in the vicinity of a vigilant city.

I thought it might be a monster.

"Mr. Bergo, run to the gate quickly."

"Oh, oh, yeah."

Mr. Bergo nodded with a pale face.

"If possible, run to the ranch and let them know."

The monster is already at a distance to see what kind of eyes he's looking at. Mr Bergo hesitated to reply.

That's true.

I don't want to wander around a little bit with the presence of that ferocious incarnation.

But the ranchers are also important people.

The difficulty of their livestock technology was well known in rural life.

"I'll buy you time. It's my first time with you, so I can't give you a little guarantee, but I can handle it."

"Hah!? Oops, to buy time, you're dealing with monsters...!

I know you don't have to peel your eyes and scream.

Anyway, I don't have time to think of any other means, and I'm not going to abandon Belgo or the ranchers.

That means I have to live as I thought.

If you think you're going to do it, do it.

"I will follow without asking questions. I am ordered by my authority as Knight George's lieutenant. Mr. Bergo, Mr. Zeb, Mr. Am, and Mr. Modi run to inform the ranch. Others should run to the gate immediately to inform them of the monster's arrival."

I admit no objection.

It is difficult to be eleven years old, but I leave in the guise of the greatest possible dignity.

"All hands, let's move out!

The order seems to have succeeded.

Breathe in and everyone runs. Mr Bergo was the only one who was late.

"Stay alive and show me later!

For a moment, I feel like I'm running out of time.

The direction is towards the ranch.

Absolutely nothing but gratitude for Mr. Bergo's bravery.

When you're done, I'll give you plenty of meat of your choice.

With that in mind, the path of the monster that seemed straight ahead was slightly different.

It's not good.

Looks like we've moved the target to the escaped Bergos.

I won't let you do that.

Tighten the stone at your feet with a shovel.

Look at the mysteries of my shovel, cultivated through daily labor.

Shake the shovel and use your utmost centrifugal force to crush the stone and throw it. It's a little catapult.

I think it's okay to admire the self-portrait that hit me from the first round.

However, the echoed hits were astonishing.

I heard a lot of metal noise.

I don't know what that means.

But sadly, it's not unexpected.

You heard it in Sir George's lecture.

Among the monsters, the werewolf has metal hair.

So when fighting a werewolf, you have to deal with it as if you're wearing a chain shirt or a skeleton mail.

It didn't hurt me by throwing stones, but I think I managed to pin the monster's target on me.

The monster's approach speed is further increased.

A wolf-shaped monster, the werewolf, stopped in front of me, making the sound of a coin rubbing through his body.

And the subtle shine of iron hair is undoubtedly metallic in nature.

I see.

Was it really metal?

I wanted to think it was a joke.

May I have a word with you?

You're just fantasizing against humanity!

While scolding in my heart, I stare at people and wolves.

Perhaps because of the stone throwing, there is more viciousness in its eyes than ferocity.

A werewolf is smaller than a bear, but bigger than me.

From the tip of the nose to the buttocks excluding the tail, it will be close to two meters. As for werewolves, they resemble big pigs.

More or less, the expression "beast man" is close.

No, it's a beast because it's less human.

If you think so, you can hear the sound of a wolf's body twisting and stirring.

Beware of what is happening, the front leg of the werewolf stretches, the shoulder width widens, and the spine curves.

I see, a werewolf.

This bastard has turned into a two-legged walker.

The longer forelegs are already worthy of being called arms and have gained a wider range of ways of attacking than Quadrupods.

The figure rising on the back leg boasts a violent appearance that exceeds two meters.

Again, you're just fantasizing against humanity!

When stunned by irrational sights, the werewolf roars with intimidation.

If you don't let them escape, you'll never get rid of them, and the volume will be as loud as you can tell the bones.

But I'm not that constricted, so I'm wasting my strength, werewolf.

"Looks like you're pretty angry. Well, this is where I hit the stone, I guess."

But you think you're the only one angry?

"I want you to understand this too. The ruthless journey to the dream that I'm trying to roll around in pain while enjoying myself, and the ruthlessness of stepping up from the side to the path."

When I came to the city, my resources grew.

The funds have increased.

Goal increased.

There was an increase in what was achieved.

We have more friends.

The steps to my dreams piled up much more than when I was in the village. Every step of the way, you become more heavy, faster, and greedy to fulfill your dreams.

Natural psychology.

It took time, so I want to make it happen.

It took a lot of trouble, so I want to make it happen.

I spent a lot of money, so I want to make it happen.

I borrowed some help, so I want to make it happen.

I got my thoughts, so I want to make them come true.

Note: The ambition to accelerate the "absolute fulfillment of dreams" proportional to the mass and mass of the desire to increase only this much.

I am now a more brakeless, violent dream chaser than I was in the village talking about dreams.

I jumped out in front of a violent thinker like that, and I won't give you the time to ask.

"I declare. I'll crush you with everything I've ever dreamed of."

Step in and push up the shovel. Aim for the right arm of the wolf.

It was the werewolf who set me up first. The metal sound of a sharp clash between the arrogant right arm and the defensive shovel leaves the plain.

The opponent hits the shovel with a knife that returns the first shot, but is captured by the left arm of the werewolf.

Leave before the counterattack from the werewolves arrives.

It was an unimaginable response.

Stiff, elastic muscles on the inside. It won't even pass the shock.

There's no way to deal a decent blow from that metal hair. In other words, it targets soft areas such as the eyes and mouth.

But how do we do it?

I don't have time to think carefully.

The werewolf slightly leaned back and attacked at a speed like a coma.

Protruding nails, swinging down nails, cutting up nails.

The werewolf attack must be made of steel with claws, one after the other.

If it hits properly, it will be powerful enough to cut your torso to pieces.

There is no time to be afraid to accept such a noisy substitute.

If you close your eyes with fear, you can't see the attack.

So I open my eyes.

If you are nervous and have a narrow field of view, you cannot capture quick movements.

That's why you have a wide field of view.

If your hands and feet tremble, your movements slow down.

So relax and move sharply.

If you step back from the impending strike, you will be convolved.

So step forward and parry the blow.

Calmly, ruthlessly, killing and receiving fear.

I can't say I'm a martial arts expert, but I'm completely immune to fear.

Using it, I will judge the exchange of life with the monster in the same way as the basic practice with Miss Mayka.

Your arm is numb to the sound of metal that keeps ringing.

The blade of the shovel is already worn out. Even wooden patterns that are not good quality convey unpleasant responses.

It's hard to breathe.

The back of your head is heavy and you're starting to get distracted.

I don't know how long we've been shooting each other.

No, I don't know how many more shots we can shoot each other.

Gu!

You realized my limitations. The werewolf sent a heavy assault.

The shovel, which was originally close to its limit, was damaged by a single blow and broke into pieces.