“Well, you guys, trial and error… think for yourself and try things out. I’m going to work a little.”
Hardship nourishes their future, so I’m not too worried.
They groan as I wave my hands and leave that place.
Well, in either case, I’ll create a barrier so that there is no chance they can harm the surrounding area and I’ll put up a barrier of concealment so the village can’t see it. They’ll be fine if I leave for a bit.
I head to the barn and pull out a wagon.
In general, the wagon is the size of a tatami mat. The wheels are not typical wood but wound dozens of times with sea dragon leather until it resembles a car tire.
The cart body is also low, and it’s also not a bench type, but a single seater type. Of course, it is homemade.
By lowering the body, it is more stable than a general wagon, with fewer vibrations thanks to the leather. It also helps a little with turning. Well, I pride it as my masterpiece.
Even if it’s loaded with five tons, you can pull it easily over 200 kilometers across a flat area. Yes, I’m gratefully I was born in a good place with these useful abilities.
I put it in front of the place where we piled up firewood, and I loaded the dry firewood in good condition on to the wagon.
While someone who can create fire with magic is standard in the countryside (mainly for house duties), no one would be able to sustain that fire (Sepuru is an exception). So naturally, firewood becomes the fuel.
Though, it’s not like many of those in the rural area would go out and cut down trees to fetch firewood. My village’s primary industry is wheat and dried fish, and that is taxing. Naturally, not all of the villagers make wheat and dried fish. There are the bakery and the general store. Those of us who live in the mountains aren’t in a place where we can make wheat and dried fish; however, the bakery and general store are gold. Because of them, those who live in the mountains often exchange firewood and charcoal for meat, vegetables, and even bread.
Of course, this doesn’t mean it’s easy to live in the mountains. There are clothing, agricultural tools, and pots that become difficult to acquire with firewood during bad weather. If that happens, I still go to the mountain and cut down trees. I try to plan it out so I’m cutting them down in a safe a place as possible (because there are monsters and beasts).
That’s why these simple daily jobs are important. Well, different places do different things. You can make cheese with goat’s milk, grow medicinal herbs, or make bamboo baskets you can carry on your back, although I can do all of them.
I’m doing everything I can. I make whatever I want. That’s why our house has a carriage in the first place.
But, not everyone can do such a thing. Everyone has their weaknesses. So the people living in the mountain help each other out. Of course, lazy people end up being pushed into the villages, but everyone struggles with something some times. In those times, the other houses can compensate for it.
Obviously, there are times when I think it’s a pain to interact with the neighbors. There are times they become unbearable and I try to tough it out and hope they go back to their work. I’m human, it’s not like I have a heart like Bodhisattva. But if you’re going to live here, you need to help each other. Strong people never get stronger. Sometimes, they will be weaker. It’s important to form trust in those times. Above all, those with strange powers like me tend to earn jealousy, and a mistake could cause things to go wrong. I don’t want to be ostracized.
And for that, I gather more firewood than the others and share our abundant meat supply. During important ceremonial occasional, I force myself to go out. However, I do restrict myself from appearing weak or using flattery. That is why I’m strongly arrogant.
Well, though that may be true, I’ll curry favor as much as possible. I want to be seen as reliable. Sometimes, I’m a bit foolish.
Country living is tough, but I feel that I live a dozen times as much as I did in my previous life where I had no connection with people.
When thinking about such things, the firewood was piled up to the point it was overflowing from the carriage.
“— Mah, one more.”
I’ll happily share these. I have no complaints. Yup.