Day 43 Morning, Omuis Guild of Adventurers.

There is a small village called Shimomui. A very small village, formed as the result of farmers of the farmlands downstream from Omui town gathering together for the sake of security.

Shimomui Village is in a vicious circle of slowly growing larger, getting attacked by monsters, its fields falling into ruin from the lack of laborers, and then recovering and slowly growing until it gets attacked by monsters again. Adventurers and guards are patrolling the area, and the monsters are regularly culled, but it seems to have little effect, so the circle keeps repeating.

Fences built by the village just get destroyed by monsters, and their first defensive wall, which they began building several years ago, was destroyed by a flood. Having no proper fence is the current reality for most of the surrounding villages or even towns. When a period of prosperity comes, creating leeway in the budget, manpower and materials to resolve the problem are not there. Despite being surrounded by woodlands, even lumber is hard to get, since the woods are infested by monsters.

However, today, a large quantity of wood suddenly arrived. Or rather than say arrived, when the boy, who comes to the guild every day while not even being an adventurer, saw the request for lumber he askedWood can be sold? Even though you are surrounded by woods? For real?and thenYou can pay in installments, so just buy it., and with those words it was left here. And not just any wood, but a huge pile of properly dried large squared timber.

We immediately sent a messenger to the lord. Buying up all of the wood he gathered adventurers and carpenters with a goal of making at least fences for nearby settlements, and first, sent them to the nearest Shimomui Village.

However, Shimomui Village was no more. That tiny defenseless village disappeared.

What stood there was a small fortress-like town surrounded by strong walls. As we neared it, the village mayor immediately came out and told us of what had happened. The story sounded like a fairytale or a legend from some faraway land.

Previously, we received a report that a new dungeon appeared downstream from Shimomui Village. Since the dungeon was still young we planned to immediately squash it as soon as we gathered enough force, but being constantly short on people we kept postponing it. And then, the day before yesterday, a knight in silver armor came to the village, accompanied by a young man in a black robe. The young man in a black robe bought up all of the grain and vegetables they couldnt sell until now and bartered much-needed wheat and medicine that they couldnt afford After that, the two entered the dungeon.

Then, they entered the dungeon on the next day as well, and coming back a few hours later told them that the dungeon is dead. And since the young man was holding the legendary Ring of the Dungeon Master in his hand there is no room for doubt. Grateful for the grain, medicine, and on top of that, having the dungeon destroyed, the villagers gathered all of the agricultural produce their poor village could spare and gave it to the two as their thanks.

Accepting that, the young man rejoiced and putting his hands to the ground said the following. Come forth, Walls?and with that single utterance, the rampart was made.

Having no idea how to thank such an amazing sorcerer, they gathered even the vegetables they planned to sell and gave them to the young man, then, he gave them numerous weapons, medicine, and money, saying that it is his gratitude. The village didnt have anything valuable enough to repay him, but he only smiled and replied that receiving so many vegetables is enough for him. Unable to calm down, since it didnt sit right with them, the villagers began gathering the little precious metals they had in their homes, but the expression on the young mans face turned to a troubled one, after which he said Thanks for the vegetablesand left. And just when they thought why the two went in the direction of the Forest of Demons, the two began felling trees and even killing monsters in the blink of an eye, leaving the village just like that, without turning back even once.

What remained was a splendid wall, cleared out woods, destroyed dungeon, and plenty of money and wheat. They also were told the ways to store and even cook the grains that they struggled to sell, and the suddenly prosperous village now even had weapons and medicine. All of a sudden the village became a safe and flourishing one, bringing happiness to everyone.

The village mayor and the villagers continued in tears. Saying that even they can hardly believe it. Even though they saw it all with their own eyes it all seems more like a dream. And despite all this, they couldnt even ask for their names.

Its like a fairytale.

In this harsh world, such a thing is possible only in folk tales or legends.

Normally, hearing such a dream-like story, one would laugh, dismissing it as silly gossip or an old fable.

But we couldnt do that.

Since sturdy walls stood right in front of our eyes.

And we were also very familiar with the town that was suddenly filled with happiness one day.

So we couldnt bring ourselves to laugh.

Even more so, because we had a very good guess of who that young man in a black robe was.

After all, I just met the boy in a black robe this morning.

That black-robed boy certainly said that the dungeon was dead. We had no idea what he was talking about, but he did say that. Confirming that was part of the reason I came here.

And he also left a large amount of wood. The young man that cut parts of the Demon Forest that were too close to the village would naturally have a lot of lumber.

But the black-robed boy left without saying a word about the village.

So no one knew about this.

Its all like a fairytale.

This story will probably become a legend or a fable in the future and will be passed down in this village.

With all the joy, delight and gratitude that they have, they dont even know to whom they should be thankful, so all those feelings will fuel the legend that is about to be born. That might be how such folk tales are created and transmitted in the first place.

That boy will most likely say nothing about this himself.

So this story will end without becoming known by anyone.

But in this village, it will be told for generations to come.

They probably will be startled when they see him in the town, but until then, it can remain a happy fairytale.

Lets not tell them that the great sorcerer with a wooden staff is walking around beating monsters to death, using that staff as a wooden stick.

For all that, the boy has to blame no one but himself, never talking, introducing, or giving necessary details.

So he will have to bear with them creating a fable out of gratitude.

A fable about a travellingGreat Sorcerer in Black RobesandSilver Knight.