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Guu, rang the sound of a stomach.
The sun had already passed its zenith, and yet was still beating down without mercy. The rivulets of sweat showed no sign of abating.
“Dammit, I... am... the... prince, aren’t I......” After having eaten only a small-portioned lunch, the torrent of cursing gradually decreased in intensity along with the passage of time.
Sharlo Alsbeit, also known as Sharlo Aashu, was wearing waterproof gloves, long boots, and a mask that covered his face from the nose down while applying himself to the task of “ditch cleaning.”
One of the large avenues running through Treia, specifically the one that stretched from the Central Plaza to the South Gate, was lined on both sides with narrow ditches. They measured roughly 50 cm in width and 70 cm in depth.
The job consisted of removing the stone lids that covered the ditches five at a time, and then shoveling out the dirty sludge at the bottom. The scooped out sludge and trash was then packed into wooden barrels that were supposed to be lined up along the side of the road.
Every once in a while, a cart would come along to take away the barrels packed with sludge and leave behind empty barrels. Then rinse and repeat.
While slotting in frequent breaks, Sharlo was nevertheless clearing out the ditches in silence. His waist hurt. His arms and legs felt like lead. The mud that had turned to sludge stank terribly, so much so that it stung his nose even through his mask.
The stares of passersby hurt. It felt like everyone looking on was scornfully laughing at him.
[Damn that looks tough—]
[How can he even keep that up in this awful heat?]
[More like, isn’t he, like, way too round? Lol.]
He was already imagining such voices.
“Dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit!” He brandished the specially shaped shovel, angrily transferring more sludge into the barrels. If someone showed up pointing and laughing at him, then he was going to throw a whole shovel of sludge into that person’s face without hesitation.
But the truth of it was that there were actually a lot of people who were looking at him with concern. Among those who noticed him, many were thinking “How tough is that in this awful heat?”, “Thank you for your hard work,” or other thoughts similarly colored with gratitude while passing by.
However, Sharlo did not have the presence of mind to notice those supportive gazes. “Dammit, dammit......” His stamina had already run out ages ago, and his arm refused to rise any more. He looked forward, and saw the South Gate blurredly in the distance. “It’s... still that far......?”
Of course, this was not a distance that could be completed by one person in one day. He only had 200 meters more to go to meet his quota for the day, but even that he was not sure he could complete by nightfall. The thought caused his eagerness to shrivel up, and he stopped his hand.
No, to be correct, he never had any eagerness in the first place. What he had been using as fuel to keep himself going was the anger toward the unreasonableness that had befallen himself.
“I want to go home......” He wanted desperately to be back in his room at the top of his tower, rolling around doing nothing aside from stuffing his face with an endless supply of food. Just how much longer would it be until he could go back to that dream-like life?
“If only that guy had never shown up......!” Just remembering that large man with a bearded face caused the back of Sharlo’s head to grow hot.
“Dammit, dammitdammitdammit! Dammit!” The anger that welled up motivated his shovel to resume moving again.
But at that moment, a voice suddenly addressed him from behind. “You’re pretty fired up, aren’t you?”
“You......” When Sharlo stopped swinging his shovel and waited, a bearded giant of a man walked over to stand next to him. In his hand was an attaché case.
“What do you want?”
“I was in the middle of my rounds and was near, so I thought to come over and see how you’re doing.”
“Hmph. No doubt you only came to laugh at me......” He himself was aware that his pace was slow. The people carrying the barrels had told him so several times already. Sharlo decided to ignore Shouzou, and turned to get back to work.
Right next to him, Shouzou stared at him fixedly. Then after a while, he asked, “Have you learned swordsmanship or any other form of martial arts before?”
“Hah? What are you asking out of the blue?” Partly due to being tired, he inadvertently stopped his hand and responded.
“It was a simple question. Have you?”
“Well, I mean......” Right now he was an abandoned case, but back when he was young he had received a well-rounded education for the sake of becoming the next king. Swordsmanship had been among them. He had received instruction from the famous martial master, Marquis Jilk Goldas.
“As I had thought. Though your stamina may have decreased, there are still glimpses of the movements here and there. Sometimes, it might benefit you to reflect on and remember the past,” said Shouzou. “Anyway, I’ll be off.”
“......What was that all about, seriously.” After being told something completely incomprehensible, Sharlo felt irritation tickling his chest. Then he roughly thrust his shovel, scraped the bottom of the ditch with it, then flexed his arm muscles to bring it up. But unfortunately, his arm couldn’t quite pull it up.
“......I see. Because I try to get so much in one go, it requires so much strength.” He withdrew his shovel, then tried to scrape off only a bit off the surface of the sludge. “Though even this little still requires quite some strength......”
Abruptly, Shouzou’s parting words came up again in his mind.
—Sometimes, it might benefit you to reflect on and remember the past.
Then followed the voice of Goldas from his childhood. It was from one of their swordsmanship lessons.
—Your Royal Highness, the sword is not something that you swing with your arm alone. Lower your waist, steady your center of gravity, then use your entire body. Like so.
While ruminating on the words from back then, Sharlo lowered his waist, tucked in his elbows, then tried to shovel while moving his arms as little as possible. “Oh hey, this is much easier.”