WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Alyo

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◈ Surviving as a Warrior in a TRPG World ◈

Chapter 15: Stonecreek (1)

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"Not necessarily. The contribution-point cost to access it is absurdly high. Even if you qualify, you can't save up that many points unless you take on difficult Adventurers’ Guild requests for a very long time."

Gerik asked whether contribution points would not naturally accumulate if he remained active long enough. Bren shook his head.

"Contribution points have more uses than you'd think. Equipment discounts, access to information, treatment for injuries... Anyway, just know they aren't as easy to collect as they sound. You'll understand once you become an adventurer."

"I see. Can I ask just one more thing?"

"Good grief... You're one curious kid."

Bren sighed as if Gerik's endless questions were too much to handle.

Still, there was plenty of time before the evening rush. As a former adventurer, Bren knew better than anyone that information could mean the difference between life and death, so he was willing to satisfy Gerik's curiosity.

"From what I've heard, even a mid-to-high-level Copper Plate can be considered a real adventurer... So what exactly is a Silver Plate?"

"A Silver Plate, huh..."

At Gerik's question, Bren naturally glanced at his own Copper Plate. For a moment, he looked as though he were recalling the dreams of his youth. Then he turned back to Gerik and spoke slowly.

"A Silver Plate is... practically the highest rank an ordinary human can reach as an adventurer. Starting at Silver Plate, the balance of power between adventurers and the guild gradually begins to flip."

Bren explained that there were not many Silver Plates in the kingdom, and they were all exceptionally capable. Even the Adventurers’ Guild had to start watching its step around them.

"Then what about Gold Plates and Platinum Plates...?"

"Gold Plates are the sort of heroes you hear about in epics... Platinum Plates are... actual monsters. Masters of magic towers, people like that. I don't know anything beyond that. As you can see, I lived at the bottom myself."

After saying that, Bren wore a bitter expression, perhaps reminded of how he had become an innkeeper without ever achieving his dream. Feeling sorry for him, Gerik stopped asking questions.

* * *

"Welcome. Your alterations are finished. You've come at just the right time."

It was Gerik's sixth day in Riverbridge. He returned to the Red Anvil Forge to pick up the leather armor he had bought a few days earlier. The blacksmith raised a hand in greeting at the sight of Gerik, a customer with deep pockets.

"Try it on."

Following the blacksmith's instructions, Gerik put on the leather armor.

The armor had been far too large for him before, but after passing through the hands of a skilled blacksmith, it had been altered to fit him perfectly.

"You don't use a shield, sir? An adventurer's body is their livelihood. Carrying one would be a good idea. What do you think?"

"Hmm..."

Gerik considered the blacksmith's reasonable advice.

Still, he had never learned how to use a shield, and Lugos's longsword was too heavy to wield one-handed. He did not have a spare hand for a shield, so he declined the offer.

"Fair enough. With your build, using that longsword and a shield might be too much."

Once Gerik explained, the blacksmith gave up on the sale as though it could not be helped.

After carefully asking the blacksmith about various ways to repair equipment, Gerik headed to the general store to collect the rest of his gear.

"I'll be able to wear the ring from now on."

At the general store, Gerik picked up his cloak and gloves. He was thrilled that he could now wear Skyler's Quintet, a magical item, hidden beneath his glove.

Having finally finished every preparation for leaving for Stonecreek, he returned to the inn with a spring in his step.

"You're a lucky one."

"...Pardon?"

It was Gerik's last day at The Oak and Owl, and he had been about to say his goodbyes to Bren. Bren's sudden remark left him puzzled.

"A caravan that was originally supposed to leave for Stonecreek four days from now managed to prepare its goods early. They're leaving tomorrow instead."

"What does that have to do with me...?"

"As it happens, one of the caravan members is a regular of mine, so I put in a word for you. Go with them to Stonecreek. You'll have to help with a few odd jobs, but it'll still be much easier than going alone."

"...!!"

Bren had merely made a few excuses, but Gerik realized that Bren had actually asked a caravan bound for Stonecreek to help a complete stranger like him. He was deeply moved.

"...Thank you."

"Don't mention it. I only put in a good word. It's nothing..."

His words were brusque, but Gerik was touched by his kindness and thanked him again.

Perhaps embarrassed by Gerik's response, Bren brought up a rumor to change the subject.

"Oh, and the road to Stonecreek will probably be safe for a while."

"Pardon? Why...?"

"Some mad bastards raided a nearby village and razed it to the ground. Those lunatics even killed a priest of Num while they were at it. The enraged holy knights are tearing through the area like they're hunting rats."

"...!!"

A story far too familiar to him had come up. Gerik felt as though his breath had stopped.

Fortunately, his experience navigating the working world in his previous life kept him from showing too much emotion. He was able to pretend he knew nothing and maintain a calm expression.

"What kind of lunatics would attack a priest...?"

"No idea. I heard they burned everything to avoid leaving evidence... Anyway, the angry holy knights have swept the area clean, so there shouldn't be any trouble on the road to Stonecreek for a while."

Gerik subtly questioned Bren about the raiders afterward, careful not to make it obvious.

Yet all he learned was that not a single person had survived in the village. He could find out nothing about the raiders themselves.

That night, Gerik thought of Baron's family, Lugos, and Priest Osrik, who had treated him kindly despite knowing him for only a short time. He prayed for their souls, swearing that one day, when he had the strength, he would avenge them.

* * *

Early the next morning, Gerik headed toward the entrance of Riverbridge as Bren had instructed.

When he arrived, he saw a caravan loading all sorts of goods onto wagons while shouting orders despite the early hour.

"Good to meet you. You're the new adventurer, right? I'm Ebon of the Gray Stag Caravan. We'll be traveling together this time."

"Hello."

Before Gerik could even raise his hand to introduce himself, a burly man with a kindly expression who seemed to recognize him approached and greeted him.

"I heard about you. You're willing to help with some odd jobs?"

"Yes. Should I carry some of the cargo?"

"I'd appreciate it. But you're still a guest, so there's no need to carry anything heavy. Help out with the lighter, less important things over there."

Gerik had already heard that he would be fed during the journey in exchange for helping with odd jobs. Without complaint, he obediently followed Ebon's directions, repeatedly carrying cargo and setting it down near the wagons.

After around two hours of hauling goods, the morning sun had risen fully, and the caravan of roughly fifteen people began its march.

Since they had three cargo wagons, the group took turns sitting at the rear of a wagon to conserve their strength.

'This is definitely more comfortable than traveling alone.'

When he traveled by himself, he had to handle everything alone, which gave him plenty to worry about.

Traveling with a large group was a little slower, but it took far less out of him. That put Gerik at ease.

"Hey, sir. Come sit on this wagon and get some rest."

"Ah, thank you."

After walking for about an hour without a break, Gerik was starting to tire when a porter sitting at the end of a wagon called out to him.

Gerik switched places with them and sat at the end of the wagon, delighted by a luxury he could never have enjoyed while traveling alone.

"Whoa! We'll stop here for today!"

They walked on until sunset, and just as everyone was beginning to tire, Ebon called for the group to halt and set up camp.

As though they were used to it, the caravan members quickly built campfires in the clearing, packed down the ground, and began putting up simple tents.

Seeing that, Gerik realized this was a place where the caravan frequently camped.

'Well, if you travel back and forth through the same area often enough, you'll naturally end up with several camping spots.'

Reading the situation, Gerik silently began helping the caravan members with their odd jobs.

His quiet attitude seemed to earn their goodwill. They dropped their guarded manner and came over one by one to speak with him.

"You're already an adventurer at your age? Will you be all right?"

"Yes, I'll be fine. It seemed better than farm work."

"Oh, dear... It's dangerous work..."

After about an hour of chatting with the workers while setting up camp, the empty clearing had turned into a fairly respectable campsite.

"Jeff! Get out the cheese and dried mushrooms. They're going into the stew."

With so many people to carry supplies, along with cargo wagons, the caravan's dinner was lavish by camping standards. Thanks to that, Gerik got to enjoy a meal he could never have imagined eating alone.

"Oh, the kid's sleeping bag is pretty nice. Is that made from Lupton Mountain Goat hide?"

"Huh? It really is. Isn't that quite expensive?"

The caravan members, who had a decent eye for quality, admired Gerik's sleeping bag when he spread it out for camp.

"Your family seems wealthier than I expected."

"No... Not at all. I got it by luck. Just luck."

"You don't get Lupton Mountain Goat hide just by being lucky..."

Gerik did not want word about what had happened with Lugos to spread, so he brushed the question aside.

Fortunately, Gerik made it painfully clear that he did not want to answer. The caravan members took the hint and did not ask about the sleeping bag again.

"You're still a guest, Adventurer, so we can't work you too hard. You've got the last watch. Sleep well."

A white-haired porter who looked quite old bluntly informed Gerik of his watch shift. Knowing the last shift was easier, Gerik did not argue and accepted it willingly.

'Should I practice Slash a little...'

Because of his watch duty, Gerik woke before the others. He saw that the surroundings were faintly visible even before sunrise, so he swung his sword to practice.

'This ointment really works well. Only a fantasy world could have something like this, right?'

The swamp ash ointment Bren said could heal torn skin in a day was no joke.

Minor scrapes that were not serious really did heal in a day after applying the ointment. Before leaving Riverbridge, Gerik had bought some and frequently used it during training.

"You're quite diligent for such a young fellow."

When Gerik finished training and began preparing to leave ahead of time, the workers who had woken up praised his diligence.

"Only a few more days to Stonecreek. Let's keep at it!"

"Yes."

For at least five more days, nearly the same routine as the first day repeated itself. Loading cargo before departure, walking, taking turns resting on the wagons, walking again, then camping.

Even then, Gerik did not forget to make time during his watches to train Slash.

"Whew... We're finally here!"

Ebon, at the front of the group, finally spoke of their destination, Stonecreek.

Gerik, who had been silently walking at the very rear, stopped walking, raised his head, and looked ahead.

'That's... Stonecreek...!'

On top of a large hill of rock and cliffs stood a frontier town surrounded by a mix of brick walls and wooden palisades.

Fitting for a place called the center of the frontier settlements, Stonecreek looked quite large for a town.

"Stop! Stop!"

A guard halted the cargo wagons. Seeming accustomed to the procedure, Ebon of the Gray Stag Caravan showed the guard a certificate proving his identity.

Footnotes:

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