LP 1.1 Gooseherd

It was a talent to be this unlucky.

Thwack, followed by the sound of a sharp blow to the ear, and then a burning sensation on his cheek as if it were on fire. As he groggily opened his eyes, he heard the sound of water being poured over him with a whoosh.

His hair stood on end. Huu-uh-heok— Kosha gasped.

The air filling his lungs was humid compared to the icy water drenching him. His vision was blurry, and water dripped from his hair. He wanted to rub his eyes, but his arms wouldn’t move.

He blinked desperately, and his focus slowly returned. It was dim and reddish.

Two braziers illuminated a circular room made of stone, without a single window, and Kosha’s body was completely bound to a chair in the center.

And two men were looking down at him. One had mixed blonde hair, and the other had black hair. Both had unsettlingly rough features.

“Are you coming to your senses?”

The blonde man asked. His low voice was threatening. Even without understanding the situation, Kosha shook his head frantically. In the process, his eyes, now more accustomed to the darkness, discovered all sorts of unidentified blades hanging on the wall.

There was only one purpose for this room.

…How on earth did I end up in a place like this?

Kosha was just a lowly gooseherd living a quiet life as if he were dead. Even if he caused trouble, the geese would cause ten times more than Kosha.

He tried to piece together his last memories.

It had been a rough and insignificant day. Five geese had escaped into the forest that morning. They sometimes played tricks on Kosha like this.

Of course, they didn’t completely run away; they just gathered at a point where he could find them exhausted, so it wasn’t a big deal.

However, if he didn’t go to find them, they wouldn’t think of returning. No one else could bring them back; only Kosha had to go and get them himself.

So that day, Kosha had wandered through the forest all day, and he had barely managed to find the geese by the time the sun was setting. Even though it was a season when a fairly cool breeze was starting to blow, his whole body was covered in dirt and sweat by the time he found the geese.

He was dumbfounded to see the geese flapping their wings and welcoming him, even though they were the ones who had run away. As he walked behind the five geese waddling home with their plump rumps swaying, Kosha vowed to sell the leader goose, who was walking at the very front, to the butcher this time for sure.

He hadn’t eaten properly all day, so his vision was spinning. He wanted to fry some goose eggs with dried meat and a little spinach and watercress, but goose eggs were something he had to sell. Besides, he didn’t have much dried meat left, so he had to save it.

In the end, he decided to fill his stomach with the same thing as yesterday—stew broth with only water, turnips, and beans added.

Disgusting turnips. But they were the most common and cheapest ingredient here. Already, a dark blue energy was spreading across the sky. He picked out a turnip, placed it on the cutting board, and picked up a knife.

—Or so he thought.

‘……!’

Suddenly, everything went black.

Someone suddenly covered Kosha’s head with something like a sack and grabbed his wrist to subdue him. The kitchen knife slipped from his hand with a loud clang. It was fortunate that it didn’t stab his foot. Kosha tried to scream, but at the same time, something thick blocked his mouth.

The sack on his head tightened around his neck. The sack smelled strange, and he tried to tear it off somehow, but it was already too late.

The stranger quickly twisted Kosha’s arm behind his back, and something wrapped around his wrist. Kosha inhaled in surprise at the pain of his arm being twisted, and the rough cloth stuck to his face. The pungent smell of a strong anesthetic, usually used for sedation, stuck to his nostrils and the membranes of his eyelids, turning his head into a swamp.

It was irresistible. With tears and snot streaming down his face, Kosha lost consciousness.

And when he opened his eyes, he was here.

“You’re not coming to your senses? Should we help you come to your senses?”

Kosha shook his head like crazy again. The man smiled wryly.

He was awake, but he still couldn’t figure out the situation. As he blinked blankly, the blonde man crossed his arms and glared at Kosha.

“You know better than anyone what you’ve done.”

“……?”

“Who is behind you?”

What on earth have I done…? Far from knowing, he had no idea. Kosha opened his mouth hesitantly.

“S-sirs. I think there’s been a misunderstanding. Behind me? I haven’t done anything. I’m just a gooseherd….”

His stomach trembled as he tried to speak in front of strangers after so long. As he mumbled with clumsy pronunciation, the two men exchanged an unreadable look. But the atmosphere was somehow strange. As if they were facing an unexpected situation.

“…Well, I didn’t expect you to confess so easily anyway.”

And the black-haired man standing behind him quietly moved. Kosha followed him with his eyes, terrified.

“Let’s talk about it step by step.”

He picked up one of the unknown blades hanging on the wall. It was the first time he had seen it, but he could easily guess its purpose.

No, no, it wasn’t the first time he had seen it. Kosha already knew, already knew far too well, which part of the human body that small but deadly tool was used on….

“S-save me.”

Kosha desperately struggled. But the chair, firmly fixed to the stone floor with nails, didn’t budge with Kosha’s pathetic movements.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“…….”

“I’m just a gooseherd. My name is Ko, Kosha. I live in Osterbick. I have nine geese. A-ah, I’m from Allohen. I moved to Osterbick when I was fourteen. I’ll answer everything, everything. I have nothing to hide. I’ll really tell you everything. Please….”

Kosha continued to babble, staring meaninglessly at the corner of the stone floor without even making eye contact. The two men exchanged glances.

“Just a gooseherd? You have nothing to hide?”

“Yes? Yes, that’s right, sir.”

“You haven’t come to your senses yet.”

Click, click, a small blade resembling pincers made a threatening sound. A chillingly cold sensation touched his fingertips. Kosha struggled, but his arms, bound to the armrests, didn’t move.

His dry hand tensed, and his bones protruded. The blade was only tickling his fingertips, but Kosha desperately tried to curl his fingers. The wooden armrest scratched against his fingernails.

“You’re not going to answer properly?”

A low voice threatened menacingly. The blade that had been fiddling with his fingertips moved past his hand and up his wrist. Not a drop of blood was shed, but Kosha shuddered as if his wrist had been cut off.

“Really, really! I don’t know. Please, there’s been a misunderstanding, I’m just!”

The man holding the blade moved suddenly. The blade touched his neck. Huuu-heueuk. Kosha involuntarily let out something that was neither a cry nor a groan.

At the same time, the chair fixed to the floor shook with a clunk.

—Clunk, clunk, clunk-clunk-clunk-clunk.

The men’s eyes turned to the nails holding the chair in place. They already knew how much force it would take to pull that chair out of the floor.

The five thick ropes binding Kosha’s body were stretched taut as if they would tear. Even the strongest of ‘them’ couldn’t easily break those ropes with pure strength. It wasn’t something a skinny guy who had been dragged here without even making a peep could do.

“H-hic….”

Kosha thrashed as the blade was tested again on his pale neck.

As the blonde man added a thick leather binding over Kosha’s body, the five ropes snapped powerlessly. Along with that, a teardrop fell onto his thin thigh. Or it could have been saliva or snot.

His limp head was panting as if he were about to vomit.

“He’s going to suffocate like this.”

At the blonde man’s nod, the blade touching his neck was removed. A rough hand grabbed his matted and wet dirty brown hair, lifting his head. His face, stained with all sorts of liquids, was pale and bloodless.

“A gooseherd? Gooseherds these days must be very strong, huh? Why didn’t you take the Knights’ exam instead?”

“H-hic…. No….”

“Even the passing dogs would laugh. Hey, ‘mage’.”

A thick hand tapped Kosha’s cheek mockingly.

It took Kosha a moment to recognize that last word. Maaaage.

Even with his dirty and wretched appearance, only his clear and large green eyes were incongruously clear, and the process of those pupils fluttering and then regaining focus was excessively visible.

Are all mages’ eyes like that? The blonde man clicked his tongue inwardly and forcibly tore his gaze away from those eyes.

“Ma, magic? I don’t even know what that is. I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”

“A misunderstanding.”

He shook the tattered ropes as if to show him. As the blade threatening his body disappeared, Kosha, who had regained some sanity, swallowed hard and avoided his gaze.

“I didn’t know a mage could be such a coward.”

“I really….”

“You made it, didn’t you?”

Something was suddenly thrust right in front of his face. Kosha, who flinched and squeezed his eyes shut, thinking he was going to be hit, barely opened his eyes.

It was a small, dirty vial. It was made of opaque glass, and there were traces of oiled cloth wrapped around the top to seal it. It looked like you could get about twelve of them for eight coins at the Osterbick blacksmith’s.

And from inside the bottle, a subtle and slightly sweet scent was gently rising. Kosha’s dry cheeks trembled. It was a very familiar smell. If he smelled closely, he would smell the same scent on his own body.

No, this wasn’t a ‘smell’.

Those two men probably wouldn’t be able to sense this ‘trace’. Kosha swallowed hard.

“I, I have no idea what you’re talking about….”

It was when he was instinctively avoiding his gaze and mumbling. With a clank—something was wrapped around one of his arms. Kosha’s eyes widened at the sensation that sent shivers down his spine, and the same thing was wrapped around his other arm with a clank.

It was a cuff like a thick metal bracelet, and the part that touched him started to sting like crazy. It felt like being bitten by hundreds of ants.

“We’re not asking questions right now.”

The blonde man said quietly.

“That’s made of Idelma Gold. It’s enough to restrain even a reasonably high-level mage, so don’t even think about trying any tricks.”

Well, you don’t seem that high-level, though. The man added with a snort.

Kosha knew as much as anyone about Idelma Gold. No matter how low-level they were, no mage didn’t know about it. That cursed mineral that disrupted the flow of mana and rendered their innate power useless.

Kosha’s expression twisted at the feeling of hundreds of ants crawling from his wrists to his shoulders.

“Who’s behind you, well, that’s not important right now.”

Kosha twisted his body and barely shook his head. There couldn’t be anyone behind him! What was in that vial….

“Make the antidote. They say you’re the only one who can undo the potion you made.”

For a moment, Kosha’s expression became strange, forgetting the stinging sensation in his arms. The blonde man keenly observed Kosha’s expression.

“You’re not going to say you can’t do it, are you?”

When he didn’t answer immediately and only moved his lips, the man put the vial down with a clatter. Then, as if to show him, he headed towards one wall of the circular room with slow steps. There were blades hanging that were too painful to even look at. Kosha’s face turned pale again.

“If that’s how you’re going to be, then there’s no choice. You’ll stay here until you change your mind—”

“I’ll make it! I’ll make it!”

The man’s low voice was swallowed by a scream-like voice.

“I’ll make anything! The, the antidote. I’ll make it. Please, if you just let me go, I’ll make it right away, right away! I promise, I swear.”

So please…. His fingernails scratched the armrest of the chair again. The scratches on the armrest of the chair became increasingly clear. The two men exchanged glances.

“…It’s good that we can communicate well.”

Very rarely for what they did, the negotiation was concluded ‘without shedding a single drop of blood’.

---

Of course, that wasn’t to say that not a single drop of blood was shed.

Kosha stared blankly at his hands. His index and middle fingers on his left hand, and the tip of his middle finger on his right hand, were bandaged. His fingernails had been lifted while scratching the armrest of the torture chamber chair.

Threatening his life was one of the easiest ways to find a ‘mage’ hiding their identity. In the face of a life-threatening situation, magical power would burst out regardless of the mage’s own will.

In this case, there was a slightly embarrassing aspect to calling it a life-threatening situation….

In any case, seeing blood was ultimately a matter close to self-inflicted, but ‘they’ readily obtained bandages and ointment for him. Kosha thought, without any sense, that they weren’t such bad people after all.

It was just that they were annoyed by the groaning sounds coming from inside the prison cell, so they might have just gotten any medicine they could find.

More than that, they seemed puzzled as to why Kosha wasn’t healing his hands with magic. Even after confirming by holding a blade to his neck, they seemed to doubt whether he was really a mage. Kosha secretly pouted his lips even amidst those ominous gazes and stubbornly bandaged his fingers.

In the first place, magic wasn’t like that. It wasn’t something that solved everything in an instant with a poof.

Well…. Even if that were possible, ‘Kosha’ probably wouldn’t be able to do it.

Thud, thud, heavy footsteps disturbed his thoughts. Kosha jumped up, stood on tiptoe, and hung on the bars of the prison door.

The man with the mottled blonde hair appeared on the landing. He sighed and said to the black-haired man guarding the front of the prison cell.

“He says he’ll meet you.”

“Really? In person?”

The black-haired man frowned, and the blonde man clicked his tongue.

“We can’t just stand by and do nothing.”

“…But, what if it’s a lie?”

The two men’s gazes turned to Kosha. His shoulders shrank involuntarily at the hostile and sharp eyes.

“I-I-It’s not a lie.”

With only his eyes barely peeking out from beyond the hand-sized window, Kosha stammered. It was very difficult to speak in front of the scary people who had kidnapped him and even tried to torture him, but it seemed that even courage he didn’t have was born when he was trapped in a narrow, dark, and damp prison cell without any hope.

He was completely cut off from the outside, so he couldn’t gauge the time, but it felt like at least two days had passed. He was starting to worry about the geese, too….

“I need to know what the problem is. That potion, that’s not originally something that needs an antidote, that kind of thing….”

Kosha mumbled. It was a word he had repeated at least dozens of times since being imprisoned.

Even though he had begged to make the antidote, there was a reason why he hadn’t even started working on it yet. In the first place, the demand to make an ‘antidote’ itself didn’t make sense. Because what was in the bottle wasn’t poison.

It was just—

“Just a Love Potion….”

And a very poorly made one at that.

Of course, he was afraid of getting his head chopped off, so he discreetly pushed those words back into his throat. Manufacturing and distributing unauthorized magical substances was already a pretty serious crime. He didn’t want to add fraud related to quality to that.

“…Okay, I understand.”

The blonde man waved his hand as if he didn’t want to hear any more. It seemed that they had no choice anyway.

He picked up the bunch of keys hanging on the opposite wall and jingled them as he searched for the key. The keys looked like weapons in his thick hand with hair even on the back of his hand. Kosha, who had been dangling from the bars above the prison door, was frightened and stepped back a little.

“Turn around with your hands behind your back. And don’t even think about doing anything funny.”

He didn’t know what doing anything funny was, but he didn’t have the ability to try it. As the man entered the narrow prison cell, his shoulders felt heavy and his skin tingled. He seemed to have armor made of Idelma Gold.

If it was affecting him this much without even making contact, it seemed to be a fairly pure item.