164

There was no convenient skip function like “and then winter ended”—I spent about a month quietly preparing for winter.

The temperature had dropped completely, and winter was right around the corner.

I stockpiled jerky made the way I’d been taught at the new base, and sometimes went to the elven village to trade preserved foods, steadily filling the room I’d turned into a storeroom.

At this point, I was fully being treated as a “monster that hibernates.”

I couldn’t exactly say, “It’s my first time wintering over,” so I left it to their imagination and kept preparing to stay holed up in the base.

In practical terms, assuming activity would be difficult during winter, I had been hauling all kinds of supplies into the current base.

Especially food and water, and manga for killing time—calling them essential wouldn’t be an exaggeration.

If it turned out I didn’t need them, then my range of activity during winter would mainly be to the east or south.

I also needed to keep searching for the research facility, and now that I had a map, efficient exploration was possible—so in that sense, it was perfect timing.

In winter, most of the forest leaves would probably wither, and as long as it didn’t snow, it would be an ideal season for searching.

Either way, having things work in my favor made it easier on the nerves.

As for the hot spring search I’d been doing in parallel, I did manage to find the remains of the site, but unfortunately I couldn’t get it running again, so that plan ended up shelved.

I also continued magic training, and after fire and light, I acquired earth magic as well.

It could only be used while my hand was touching the ground, and I could dig or raise a hole about the size of a human fist.

A shovel was more useful.

For reference, there was something called composite magic—basically fusion-style magic—and if you could use fire and earth, you could combine them to launch a high-temperature attack with lava-like mass.

Most elven casters could use this composite magic, but if a human could use it, they were apparently considered exceptionally skilled.

Had that old mage used this so-called composite magic back then too?

While I occasionally sank into that sort of wistfulness, I spent my days steadily doing what needed doing.

As an aside, I’d had two chances to run into Klaze-kun since then, and we ended up talking about various things.

When I asked for information about the clan’s Spirit Bow wielder in exchange for a gravure magazine, he told me—pink-brained as ever—“She’s still a kid, so at least wait until she’s an adult.”

After properly correcting him and pressing again, I learned that the Spirit Bow wielder held by Forshna—one of the Three Great Clans—was a thirteen-year-old girl.

However, she was apparently a wielder so favored by talent that she was called a “prodigy,” and even at this stage there were rumors she was the strongest in history—contributing greatly to boosting Forshna’s influence.

As for my question, “Isn’t the old Sword Saint the strongest?”—the answer was that she didn’t count because she wasn’t an adult, and that when they sparred about three years ago, the old man had won.

“Shuvard-sama is getting old too, so I bet he won’t be able to win for much longer.”

The existence of an unexpected dark horse made me a little uneasy, but I decided to think positively: “Number Six-san is around, so it’ll be fine.”

It paid to have people with power.

Power really was a reliable, reassuring ally when things mattered.

Sorry for being born into wealth and having relatives involved in politics, huh?

It was something I used to joke about a lot when I was human, but the truth—that my supposedly reliable relatives were the type who wouldn’t tolerate corruption, so I didn’t actually benefit that much—stayed secret to the very end.

Anyway, while reminiscing like that, I’d been mass-producing jerky… but I got carried away experimenting, and I ran out of salt.

It didn’t help that I went as far as trying smoking despite barely knowing how.

I’d caved to my desire for new seasonings, and I’d heard somewhere that smoking made food keep longer.

Next time, I’d get relevant books first instead of being lazy.

In any case, without salt, jerky production would be a problem.

So I supposed I’d have to go do a little shopping in the Kingdom of Canaan.

The next morning, since I’d finished preparations in advance, I left the base with my modified backpack on.

I was well-rested, I had supplies, and I’d locked up perfectly.

I set my course northeast and departed.

Once I entered the forest, I could see not an animal trail, but “my trail,” formed by countless round trips.

There were traces of minor environmental damage to make travel easier, but there were no neighbors out here to complain, so it wasn’t an issue.

One of the trails led to the abandoned rail line connecting the towns, but this time I started moving while exploring, without using that route.

When I traveled like this, I moved while watching my surroundings, and maybe because of that, I sometimes wandered far off course.

Even if the body specs were high, the brain hadn’t been enhanced—I felt that keenly.

I tried, without learning my lesson, to will some kind of radar-like ability into existence, but it seemed that sort of function just wasn’t installed.

“That’s absolutely a capability you should have,” I muttered, doubting the researchers’ sanity for not including something so convenient—but if they had, they probably wouldn’t have built something like me in the first place.

Between the new weapon that blew up the Imperial Capital and everything else, weren’t our scientists kind of insane?

As I was thinking that, something suddenly clicked, and I stopped.

“Oh… so that’s what it was?”

I remembered the great war from my human days—the reason the elves joined—and I remembered why the Empire had developed so far ahead, leaving other civilizations behind.

Had people back then been unable to keep up with the too-rapid technological progress?

Had we kept sprinting at full speed on rails laid by a single person who knew the future, until the brakes stopped working on everything?

Or had we grasped the technology we didn’t truly understand, then neglected everything else in pursuit of further possibilities?

Either way… or for some other reason, knowing the ending was a runaway that ended in self-destruction, I couldn’t help but feel the danger of abrupt development—especially with this body.

‘So this is probably around where the elves decided it was taboo and dangerous, huh?’

I wrapped up the thought with, What a troublesome visitor.

There was no point thinking any further.

This head was too small to know the truth of the world.

And so I resumed travel and exploration, drifting into detours as I headed northeast.

With no particular discoveries, I reached the rail line, then sprinted down the straight path that posed no problem for travel.

First, I’d go to the now-familiar Eilqueel, stay one night there, and gather supplies to bring back.

As you’d expect, consumables dwindled fast.

After all, I was bringing back and using items from two hundred years ago—no matter how good their condition, there were limits, and on top of that they were made for humans.

Which meant that when I used them, they broke quickly or became unusable.

Cloth goods like towels wore out especially noticeably.

Over this past month, anticipating that, I’d gone back and forth to Eilqueel many times to replenish supplies, and even this trip had become routine.

It wasn’t as fast as it had been in the Imperial era, but even so, I could reach it without crossing into a second day—so saying “I’ve learned to use this body perfectly” wouldn’t be an exaggeration.

So I went straight toward my destination through the town, now completely dark.

I dove into the handmade bed that had served me so many times.

And I said one thing.

“…Yeah, I probably need to make a new bed soon too.”

I patted the bedding, which had gotten completely stiff compared to the beginning.

It was a problem how quickly everything wore down with this body.