Chapter 12: If You Won’t Fight, Then Serve Through Chores

On the way back to Yuto after driving off the goblins, we spotted a few wild birds.

Each time, I cast a spell to shoot them down—for food.

It was Karen’s idea, but I was the one doing the actual work. Partly as magic practice.

In mock battles, I only used a dulled blade to avoid hurting the elf opponents. I still couldn’t fully control magic. In fact, I hadn’t used it even once in the last fight.

…Well, mostly because they weren’t worth the effort.

Fire Arrow—just as the name implies, it shapes flame into an arrow and fires it.

It’s not especially powerful, but the tradeoff is low chanting time and mana cost. A handy spell for distraction or suppression. I used it for training while also gathering ingredients for lunch.

We had been given rations as part of our travel gear, but I figured we should conserve them as much as possible.

By the third bird, I’d mostly gotten the feel for it.

I imagined a spirit standing behind me, drawing a bow.

Instead of picturing the arrow in flight, I focused on the moment it pierced the target.

Doing that naturally made the arrow pursue and hit its mark.

Watching me master it so easily, Karen said,

“So Yuto-sama too… Are people from your world just innately attuned to magic?”

She sounded genuinely impressed.

I replied, “In our world, we grow up surrounded by manga—books told through pictures. Makes it easy to visualize things.”

With magic, imagery is everything.

You first expel mana from your body, then shape it while visualizing the phenomenon you want to occur. Once your image is clear, the spell spills from your mouth on its own.

It seems the world Karen and the others live in—Souseikai—hasn’t developed creative media very much. As a result, they struggle to imagine things they’ve never seen. That’s why they have to apprentice under high-ranking mages and learn by example.

“…I wonder why Yuto-sama doesn’t fight,” Karen murmured.

“He’s not good with blood,” I said.

Since we were traveling together, I figured she ought to know.

“Blood, you say?”

“He saw his parents die right in front of him as a kid. He’s been like that ever since.”

“…That’s awful. But still, if we don’t defeat the ‘Demon Dragon’ as soon as possible, there will only be more children who go through the same.”

Karen’s words were harsh—but she wasn’t wrong.

Still—

“The world we came from—Japan—is incredibly peaceful. Disputes happen, sure, but no one kills over them. I don’t think this world is a bad place, but… try to take that into consideration.”

“…I understand.”

I could tell she wasn’t fully convinced.

But I had nothing more to say.

So we hurried back to where Yuto was—

When we returned to where we’d parted ways with Yuto, we found him wearing an apron.

He was standing over a stone-built hearth, quietly simmering something in a pot.

“Welcome back. Lunch is just about ready,” he greeted us like we’d only gone for a short stroll.

Yuto was good at all kinds of housework.

He’d lived alone since he was little, so it made sense. If he couldn’t take care of himself, he wouldn’t have survived. Meanwhile, embarrassingly, I was useless at that stuff—I even hired housekeepers to clean my place.

“Yeah, we’re back. …What are you making?”

“Well, I had some time while you two were out fighting, so I went for a short walk and gathered some wild herbs and mushrooms.”

“You went out alone? That’s dangerous. The smell might attract monsters or animals,” Karen warned.

Yuto waved his hand lightly.

“It’s fine. I’ve got the Detection Sonar spell running the whole time. If anything gets close, I’ll know right away. And if something does show up, I’ll just drop everything and run.”

…Yeah, that sounds exactly like Yuto.

I smiled wryly to myself.

Back home, Yuto often got targeted by thuggish types because of how isolated he was. And yet he always slipped past trouble. He’d use someone else’s presence as a shield, or subtly get a teacher’s attention to intervene. Probably some kind of subconscious survival instinct. He never showed his weaknesses unless he absolutely had to.

And when someone did push him too far, he’d hit back hard.

That part probably hasn’t changed even with his gender.

If someone—or something—kept hounding him, he’d definitely resist with everything he had and make a clean escape.

Of course, I doubt he’d want to see blood spilled in the process...

“Are you sure those herbs and mushrooms are safe?”

I trust Yuto, but still—especially with mushrooms, the risk of poisoning is real. Wouldn’t want to die laughing.

“Yeah, I studied up using the castle’s books. And they’re not just weeds—they’re more like culinary herbs back home. Besides, if anything happens, we’ve got detox magic now. Thanks to Karen-san being here.”

The second part of his explanation felt too improvised to take seriously, but I had to admit—his thoroughness was impressive. Apparently, botany had been among the subjects he’d eagerly studied back at the castle.

And Karen, it turned out, was one of the castle’s few skilled users of healing magic.

Even against the Demon Dragon, which nullified most spells, she’d still be invaluable in a support role.

“Right, we caught some birds along the way. Mind cooking them too?”

I tossed over the pouch we’d used to store them.

“Sure. I’ve done something similar before, so it should be fine. These are Mukk Birds.”

“Oh? So they’re called Mukk Birds?”

For some reason, the local—Karen—looked surprised.

Noticing my gaze, she blurted out awkwardly, “...I’ve, um, never really interacted with wild animals before!”

Then she added, more seriously, “By the way, when you clean birds, there’s going to be blood. Will Yuto-sama be alright?”

“Hm? Ah, Raiga told you, didn’t he? It’s okay. What I can’t handle is blood that flows from other living beings.”

Already working, Yuto responded while cleanly beheading the Mukk Bird.

Blood gushed out and stained the prep surface, but with a quick chant of Wash, it was wiped clean in an instant.

“Still, it’s not exactly something I enjoy seeing,” Yuto said with a wry smile.

“If possible, I’d rather you bleed them right after the hunt. Improves the flavor too,” she added, this time turning to me.

The mithril knife I’d received from the royal family was absurdly sharp. In no time at all, all three Mukk Birds were fully cleaned and broken down.

Apparently, mithril is a type of magical metal.

Light, hard, and heat-resistant. And when made into a blade, its sharpness is unmatched.

It’s a rare ore, but was gifted to us as part of the Hero’s equipment so we’d face no disadvantages in the mission to defeat the Demon Dragon. …Of course, we’ve been told to return it after the journey. Which might just be another way of saying: “You better survive.”

Actually, even our cookware—like the prep table and pots—were made of mithril.

That’s why they were so lightweight despite their size.

Incidentally, my own sword, Galatine, is also made of mithril. But it’s inscribed with special magical glyphs that allow it to respond to mana. The technique behind those markings has been lost to time—classified as a “lost technology” from a forgotten age.

Yuto placed the meat slices into the pan and chanted Fire Seed.

A small flame flared to life, slowly heating the pan.

With a satisfying sizzle, the meat began to cook, releasing a mouthwatering aroma that spread through the air.

“...Yeah. Meat hits different,” I murmured.

To which Yuto smirked, “Huh? Didn’t you say you weren’t into chicken?”

“Shut up. A man needs meat.”

Back when we were still on Earth, I used to say I preferred beef or pork over bland chicken.

But that was in a world where meat was everywhere. Even though we’d been treated as honored guests at Elgrand Castle, there wasn’t much meat served. Elves mostly live on a vegetarian diet. They eat meat maybe two or three times a year, tops.

—Then again, they’re a race that perceives ten years the way we do one.

Maybe it’s a difference in perception that comes with lifespan. Either way, I couldn’t live like that.

Anyway—meat.

We tossed a generous amount into the wild herb soup and the three of us sat down to eat.

As for the taste, there was only one thing to say—that pot was empty in minutes. It was damn good.