I'm the bravest man in the village and all the women love to see me. I'm the bravest man in the village, and all women love to see me.

　The hunter's zinga sings out of tune.

　The lyrics lacked literary sensitivity or even subtlety, but the singer seemed to be enjoying himself. But he suddenly remembers that he has a female companion.

"--gasp, excuse me, excuse me.

　Then he scratched his head and sang another song.

"We're the genius hunters, we'll shoot the target from a hundred yards away. I'll pierce her heart, too.

　This time there was no vulgarity, but still there was no literature at all.

Popular songs are like that. Simple lyrics, simple melodies, that's why they are still alive.

　Lunamaria assures us.

　Father Vandal, the god of magic, said it too. A word mumbled by an ordinary man is more likely to impress people than a sentence written by a genius who has spent a thousand days working on it.

　The esoteric expressions of a sorcerer's highbrow book are certainly not the ones you want to utter in your bathroom or on a forest lane.

　With Zinga's song as background music, the forest opens up.

Is that the Master Zinga's village?

"Maybe. Was it Barca Village?　It's a lot smaller than I expected.

　Zinga, who has been listening to my conversation with Lunamaría, interrupts the conversation.

"Hey, hey, you can't call someone's village a daphnid village.

　I did not say that much, but it was certainly rude to say small in front of people who live there. I apologize. Then Zinga laughs, "Ha ha ha!

"You're as serious as ever, Will. No need to apologize. And it's true that you're small. And it's not a village that sells its size. You can poke more fun at it.

That's indeed ......

　Lunamaria listens. I guess she could tell the size by the sounds of life.

...... It's a village of about 500 people.

That's right, little girl. The population of Barca Village is 51. ...... Oh, fifty-two. Because the couple across the street hustled and had more kids last month.

"You mean enough population that even Mr. Zynga can get an accurate figure.

I'm curious about the "but," but yeah. It's a really small village.

　and pointed to a sign at the entrance of the village. It says "Barka Village".

As it says on the sign, the name of this village is Barka Village. It is the only village in the forest.

Why is there a village in such a dense place?

That's because the villagers here are a bit of a freak.

　I'll give you an explanation, but I'm sure he'll give you a good one.

If I tell you the truth, Master Baba will yell at me, so I'll explain.

"People of the Forest?

Yes. The forest people are the forest people. They are said to be in the forests everywhere, but they reject civilization and subsist on the bounty of the forest.

　And Zinga draws a bow and poses. Emphasize the muscularity.

Thus dressed in stinking fur, he draws his bow and gets his prey. He sells it off to traders outside the forest to buy iron products and grain from outside.

"It's just the people of the forest.

"Yeah. Bartering is out of style nowadays.

　Zinga let out a sigh, but she doesn't mind living like this.

I ran away from home once and ran away from this forest, but I came back after about a year. The outside of the forest was full of excitement, but once you get used to the time here, the outside world feels less busy. I'm a city girl by all appearances, but I guess this life is better for me.

　Looks aside, even a bright guy like Zinga didn't fit in with the outside life, this village must be a very nice village . I could guess that.

　It's true that it's a small village, but the people on the street are friendly. Even when they see me as an outsider, they greet me with a smile.

　Children were also running around the place looking happy.
　It was clear that the time was different from the royal city where I had stayed until the other day.
　At the mention of such an observation, Lunamaría agrees.

My birthplace was a small village like this one. It is not a rich life, but it is a life rooted in the land. You can live surrounded by nature. Some scholars have said that this kind of life is called the slow life.

"My dad said the same thing," said Vandal. Stress-free mice are the key. Mice that are stressed and unstressed live twice as long.

Yes, sir. If I could prevent the resurrection of the Demon King, I would like to live the rest of my life in a village like this one.



"You know--

　I casually agreed to that, but then I realized it was like saying, "Let's get married when this whole Demon King thing is over. It sounded like a proposal.
　I'm embarrassed, and I blush, but Lunamaria doesn't notice my complexion. --But she does notice a heartbeat.

"Dear Will, you seem to be experiencing palpitations, what is it?

　I can't tell you that I imagined you as a bride.

　I can't say that I imagined you as a bride. So you can point out the appropriate building to muddy the waters.

...... That house is the biggest one. I think it's the chief's house.

　I guess my guesswork was right.

Will, this is good.

　Zinga laughed vigorously and said, "Well, it's still about the size of a pigsty in the city.

It's about the size of a pigsty in the city. It's too rude to give the son of the gods a matron of honor, but you can still make yourself at home.

　Such a slight and the old woman comes out.
　She too is clad in furs. She has a tattoo on her face, but it was hidden by wrinkles.

Hey!　Zinga!　If you trash the chief's house like that, God will punish you.

"How can I be a hunter for fear of God's punishment?

　The old woman sniffs "hmmm" as Zinga replies matter-of-factly. I say, "Well, yeah," and she looks at me.

"Who's that boy over there?

　We looked at each other and I bowed and introduced myself.

"My name is Will. I'm Will. I'm from Table Mountain.

He's the son of the gods. Master Baba.

　Zinga taps on the shoulder and complements. Master Baba's eyes widen.

"My God, are you the son of the gods?

"Yes.

"Looks like God ...... is not . . the Son of Man?

"Yes, I was picked up by the gods when I was a baby. The gods picked me up when I was a baby.

"I see, the gods raised a human child.

　Convinced to be convinced, the old woman opens her mouth and smiles. Some teeth had fallen out.

So the son of a man raised by the gods saved the best kangaroo boy in Barca.

"Yes, this guy saved my life. This man saved my life.

　Zinga explains the situation.
　Hmmm, and the old woman nods.

I see. I see." "Such a thing. So this boy will not only save you but also bring wealth to the village of Barka.

　She must be referring to Belsel Bull, whom she had just defeated. She calls the village lad and orders him to retrieve the body of Belsel Bull.

　When she finishes her instructions, she looks at me again and bows her head.

This is a man who is not my blood relative, but he is my grandson. I am grateful for your help in saving his life.

In times of trouble, it's mutual.

"And I am grateful that you took down the big Berserk Bull. If left unchecked, it could have caused a great deal of damage to the village.

And I can sell the pelts because I took them down without hurting them.

　Zinga making wakka with carrot and fingers. The old woman nodded and said, "Mm.

"Demons are both a curse and a blessing for this village. You can sell their flesh and blood for a living.

"Master Baba likes you, chief. The whole village will be at your service.

　The chief nods in agreement with Zinga's words.

"Of course. It would be a shame for the spirits of our ancestors if we returned a benefactor to our village without treating him well.

　Not wanting to feel cramped in the afterlife, the village chief announces a drinking party.

"Treat them with the power to empty the brewery!

　The remaining women in the village smiled.

"Baba's forgiveness is granted!
Now the meat of Berserker Bull is coming. I'm not going to spare you!
"If people think that Barca Village is a stingy village, it will be a shame for generations to come!

　Young girls below, old men about the size of village chiefs above, and women of all ages raising their fists in the air. They seem to be as hospitable as they can be.

　Thank goodness. We sit down to repay their spirit.

　The choice seems to have been right, and the delicious smell is wafting in a moment.
　The smell of burning thick bacon tickles my nostrils.