Episode 1: Manners Make the Guest (Prologue)
Rustle, rustle.
A figure darted through the trees, glimpsed briefly before vanishing, nimble as a wild deer. Each time it came into view, it disappeared just as quickly, slipping away like a shadow.
The figure, running ahead of a group of bandits, seemed almost within reach yet expertly concealed itself every time they got close.
“That ****! Hiding is useless no matter where she goes!”1I don’t like swearing words, so I will minimize them as much as I can ❣️
“D*mmit. She’s exhausting us. Once we catch her, she’ll pay for every bit of trouble she’s caused!”
The fleeting figure, always just far enough to avoid being caught, would appear again at a distance close enough to keep the bandits from giving up. Unknowingly, they were lured deeper into the forest.
“There she is! Don’t you dare move a muscle!”
“Yeah, listen up, and we might spare your life!”
The figure suddenly came to a halt, visible through the gaps between the trees.It appeared she was cornered on a hillside obscured by towering trees, her path blocked. The slope looked far too steep to climb, and with no way to escape sideways, she hesitated, clearly flustered.
“Ha! We might let you beg for mercy, if you’re lucky,” one of the bandits sneered.
Excited at the prospect of finally catching her, the bandits sprinted forward, determined to pounce before she could flee again. But as the lead bandit lunged eagerly, his foot found nothing but empty air.
“What the-?”
And the thieves following closely behind, unable to slow down in time, also stepped into the air.
“Waaaah!”
“What the-!”
The rearmost thief, hearing his comrade’s screams, hastily tried to turn back but failed.
“Aaaah!”
The last thief, in his haste, slipped on the smooth surface as the grass beneath him gave way. Feeling the void of empty space under his feet, he let out a bone-chilling scream, frantically reaching out to grab anything.
“Ahhhh!”
What his hands finally grasped was the grass scattered all over the ground. Though he clutched the long strands in bundles, hoping they might give him some grip to hold on, it was all in vain.
“No! No! Aaaaah!”
Unfortunately, the grass was all cut. It wasn’t growing from the ground but had been laid out to disguise the pitfall covered in loose soil.
And so, the band of thieves chasing after the lone figure all fell into the deep, collapsing pit.
Watching this unfold, the figure hiding behind a tree lightly stepped down.
She looked down into the pit where the thieves had fallen.
“Ugh…”
One of the thieves was groaning, clutching his shin, seemingly broken. Another nearby couldn’t even put weight on his legs, perhaps having fractured his arm as well, only moaning in pain.
‘Three in total. Their belongings… is that guy carrying them?’
As she carefully observed her prey trapped in the pit, she identified the one carrying anything of value. She then drew her blowgun.
After ensuring the thieves, now unable to move, were each hit in the neck with tranquilizer darts, she retrieved a rope hidden under a rock nearby and slid smoothly down into the pit.
She first ensured the prey couldn’t move even after the tranquilizer wore off, tying them up tightly and skillfully avoided the swollen and broken limbs, knowing that pressing them might cause enough pain to bring them back to their senses.
“Phew.”
After safely securing her prey, she wiped a bit of sweat from her brow and pulled out the dagger at her waist.
With practiced ease, she began to strip away their outer garments.
‘Last time, one of them had coins sewn into his tunic.’
Drawing from experience, she meticulously disassembled every article of clothing then searched every pocket, from the pouches strapped to their backs to the tiny hidden compartments in their shoes.
‘Not much this time.’
Despite thoroughly looting her captives, the haul was less than satisfying.
Feeling that all the effort of chasing them down was barely worth it, she calculated what she might earn by handing the thieves over to the guards.
‘Is there anyone with a bounty on their head?’
She scrutinized each unconscious face, trying to match them to any wanted posters she’d seen, but none seemed familiar.
Tilting her head in thought, she considered her options.
‘Well, they did attack my home. At the very least, I can get them thrown in prison. Not like these guys will ever repay their prison fees, though.’
In the territory, criminals caught by the guards were imprisoned, but the cost of their incarceration—prison maintenance and guard wages—was charged to the prisoners themselves. To be released, they first had to pay off this “prison tax,” in addition to any fines for their crimes.
If they couldn’t afford these fees, they were forced into labor to cover the costs. However, since they remained in prison during this labor, the prison tax continued to accumulate. Meals provided during their labor further added to their debt.
In the end, those who couldn’t pay their fines or prison fees and had no family to cover the costs often spent their lives bound to forced labor. For the lord of the land, it meant gaining free laborers.
‘The prison warden will be pleased I’ve brought in three new slaves. It’s a hassle to transport them to the village, but at least petty criminals fetch a small price.’
Deciding it was worth the effort, she resolved to put in a little more work.
By the end of her laborious day, she had earned as much as she would have from a successful hunt of a large deer.
Proud of her earnings, she stashed the day’s profit and reflected on her recent endeavors with satisfaction.
‘Lately, more thieves have been entering the forest. Thanks to them, animals are harder to spot, but catching the thieves has turned out to be a decent source of income, so I don’t mind. The forest’s been noisy, but I might have still snagged a rabbit or two. I’ll check the traps I set tomorrow.’
Her name was Ar.
A hunter who had lived in the forest her whole life.
Recently, the forest had become a frequent haunt for thieves drifting in from somewhere unknown.
Whenever they found the lone cabin in the woods, they would kick the door open, drawn like moths to a flame. And when they saw a woman living there alone, they would approach with leering grins.
Each time, Ar worried about the fragile hinges on her old door as she darted out the back. When she started running, the thieves would chase after her, acting like a pack of predators pursuing easy prey.
But of course, they were mistaken.
She didn’t know where these thieves had come from, but it was clear they weren’t locals. Only outsiders would recklessly run through this notorious forest, unaware of the sudden pits carved into the middle of paths or the hidden bogs that lay beneath thick vines.
The local villagers rarely ventured into the forest, as it was filled with unpredictable dangers. Only Ar, who had spent her life here and been taught its secrets by her grandfather, could navigate it freely.
Unaware of the terrain, the thieves would faithfully follow her, only to plunge off cliffs or stumble into traps, becoming a reliable source of income for her.
‘That’s quite a bit of money I’ve saved up. Should I buy new arrowheads with it?’
Counting her earnings, she spent another evening like any other, blissfully unaware of what was to come. She had no way of knowing that an impending visitor would soon turn her peaceful life upside down.
As someone who couldn’t see the future, she went to bed that night in calm ignorance.
***
A well-fed lion doesn’t hunt.
Thanks to the unexpected intruders that had padded her income, Ar was in a good mood, sitting inside her cabin and sharpening some newly purchased arrowheads.
She could hear a commotion outside but had no interest in investigating. In the past, she might have stepped out, driven by curiosity. But with so many intruders wandering into the forest lately, she couldn’t be bothered anymore.
The noise from outside grew closer and closer. Finally, when it became impossible to ignore, the door swung open with a deafening crash, as though it might break off its hinges.
“A hunter’s dwelling,” one of the intruders remarked.
“It seems to be the only structure in this forest,” another added.
“Small enough to fit in your palm,” a third muttered.
The group that had barged in was unlike the ragtag bandits she’d encountered before; they were clad in gleaming helmets and tightly interwoven chainmail that covered their entire bodies.
Outside, the snorting of horses could be heard. They must have brought them. From the number of expensive horses they had, it was clear these weren’t petty thieves but wealthy, well-equipped individuals.
“Even in a cramped place like this, there’s no telling where someone might hide. Search every inch, from the walls to the floor.”
But from Ar’s perspective, the fact that these men were rummaging through her belongings without permission made them no different from the thieves she was used to dealing with.
After a moment’s thought, she found no reason to treat them any differently.
The men entered without hesitation, their muddy boots staining her wooden floors. As the owner of the house, Ar was speechless at their audacity.
Acting as if they were in their own storage room, the intruders continued to ignore her presence, rummaging through her belongings. It was only when they began roughly moving the oak barrels of the fruit wine she had carefully brewed last autumn that one of them finally addressed her.
“You there. Have you seen anyone in this forest? A man with blond hair and blue eyes.”
Ar stared at them with a crooked expression. She had absolutely no reason to cooperate with the people who had stormed into her home and turned it upside down.
So far, they hadn’t drawn their swords to demand valuables or leered at her like previous intruders who had spouted disgusting threats about having their fun with her. For now, she decided to watch and wait.
But in her mind, she was already mapping out escape routes through the forest, ready to treat them the same as all the other unwelcome guests if they showed the slightest hint of hostility.
“Enough. Let’s ask the homeowner directly,” said the one who seemed to be the leader of the group.
He approached her, his chin lifted in a condescending manner as he looked down at her.
“Are you hiding someone here?”
Ar silently stared back, her gaze fixed on his eyes without a word.
Staring at her, who had no change in expression, the man felt slighted, thinking his words had been ignored, and furiously drew his sword.
“Didn’t you hear me? I’m asking you something right now.”
Shling-
The low sound of the sword echoed as it stopped right in front of her face. Ar let her eyes dart back and forth between the man and the blade.
“Are you hiding someone in your house?”
The man emphasized his words as if to hammer the point home, clearly irked that a mere commoner had dared to disregard him.
From the moment he drew his sword, Ar had already decided how to deal with them. With a swift motion too fast to follow, she flicked her hand, scattering mushroom spores that could fill an entire room in a thick cloud when triggered.
Boom!
With a loud sound, the inside of the hut filled with smoke and Ar bolted out the back door without hesitation.
“…!”
“After her! Everyone, get on your horses!”
The intruders quickly escaped the smoke and began chasing her silhouette, already disappearing in the distance.
What followed was the usual routine. Ar led the uninvited guests to a refreshing riverside. Their heavy armor sank beautifully with them into the depths of the water.
Feeling refreshed, she returned home, only to find another visitor sitting inside her house.
***
The visitor was dressed in unusual attire. He wore a cloak covered in dyes and clothes with an abundance of buttons. The intricate golden embroidery on the fabric displayed patterns unfamiliar to Ar.
As the intruders earlier described, he had blonde hair and blue eyes.
Ar had never seen hair like that before. It wasn’t the dull, straw-like blonde she’d seen in the village. It was a rich, bright color, like the polished gold buttons the village elder often flaunted.
She found it strange that a metallic hue could be the color of someone’s hair.
The man’s complexion was pale,
like freshly peeled bark, and it seemed even more flawless than Julia, the prettiest girl in the village. His smooth, unblemished skin fascinated her.
“I apologize for entering your home uninvited,” he said.
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