And in a stroke of bad luck, Keel shifted his position as he slept and moved his weight in the same direction. As a result of these two factors coming together, the boat completely capsized.
Aaagh?!
“Huh?! What happened?!”
Thrown underwater, Zen let out a soundless scream, and Keel woke up in a panic. They were desperate to get their heads out of the water, greedy for air.
As a silver lining, this region was warm, so despite being submerged in a pond (marsh?) during winter, they didn’t immediately freeze to death. However, it was definitely sapping away their body heat. They couldn’t stay floundering in shock forever.
They both frantically swam for shore—well, Keel was more composed. As for Zen, while Sharla had forced him to learn how to swim, hammering its importance into him, he definitely wasn’t good at it. The imperial capital was located inland, and he was a young man from a good family who’d grown up in a city. He’d never spent time at rivers before and hadn’t had any opportunities to swim of his own volition. He was also still fully clothed, which made it even more difficult.
The only reason he managed to reach the shore was the formidable power that manifested itself when a human’s life was at risk: an adrenaline rush.
However, after they’d crawled out of the water, they were met with a new danger.
“I-It’s so cold...” Zen mumbled through his chattering teeth.
“You said you were going to let me eat my fill, but I don’t think you’ll be keeping that promise.”
Zen was drenched and shuddering, and Keel gave his body a great shake, the motion flinging the muddy water from his fur. They had to go to the fishing village right away and warm themselves up.
With that thought in mind, Zen looked around to get their bearings.
“Oh my, what a disaster,” said a gentle, sympathetic voice. When Zen turned in the direction it had come from, he was met with an old man with pure white eyebrows and a long beard beckoning them.
There was an open fire burning next to where he was on the shore, dangling his fishing line, and it seemed he was inviting them to come over to it. Moreover, this was not the first time they’d met this old man.
“Y-You’re...!” Zen started.
“It’s been a while, Sir Zen of Todd Village. What a strange coincidence this is.” Just like the last time they’d met, the old man was chuckling with a somewhat otherworldly aura.
They’d met around two months ago on the anniversary of Aness’s and Heinri’s deaths. Zen had failed to catch a fish to use as an offering, and this kind old man had given him a grass carp he’d caught. Zen mentally called him the fishing hermit.
“I didn’t think I’d see you here!” Zen exclaimed.
“I’m a man living out a comfortable retirement. If there’s a good fishing spot, I’ll go there no matter where it is.”
“Thank you for what you did for me back then. And here I am, troubling you once again.”
“Oh, no, not at all. Now hurry up and come to the fire.” This smiling fishing hermit was definitely a sweet old man.
Zen accepted his offer. Taking off his drenched coat, he went to the fire together with Keel.
The winds on the shore were cold, although not as bad as in the middle of the pond (marsh?), and he nearly let out a squeak every time it blew against his bare skin. He was really grateful for the fire in front of him.
He wrung out his coat thoroughly and spread it out to dry.
“It’s good that you don’t seem to be too injured, at least,” said the fishing hermit.
“Yes. However, I need to apologize to the villagers later.” The fishing rod was probably at the bottom of the pond (marsh?) by now, and he had to retrieve the boat, which was still floating upside down. He of course intended to compensate them for the damage he’d caused, so he hoped they would forgive him.
“I promised this guy that I’d let him eat all the carp I managed to catch later...” he lamented, referring to Keel. “Man...” What a waste.
However, the old man hummed. “Oh? But I think freshly caught carp would be too muddy to eat, even for him.”
“Huh? Really?”
“You need to soak them in well water for a week to remove the mud.”
“I didn’t know...” Zen was very much a workaholic who was unconcerned with cooking. He felt Keel’s cold stare.
“It’s best to sell your day’s catch to the fishing village and use the money to buy some delicious carp at one of the restaurants in town.”
“I see... That’s enlightening...”
“Ho ho! Calling mere fishing ‘enlightening’... You’re as serious as always.”
Zen did have some growing to do.
The fishing hermit had a natural quality that made it so that, although he was laughing at Zen, it didn’t bother him at all.
As he was warmed by the fire, he enjoyed pleasant conversation with the fishing hermit. Impressed by the elderly man’s deep fishing knowledge, Zen could forget about the cold as he eagerly listened to him. Keel also started dozing off, as if lured in by the peaceful atmosphere.
Then, after Zen’s body and clothes had almost dried completely, he noticed a noisy group that happened to be passing by. They all carried bows and arrows, so they were probably local hunters. They all looked pleased with themselves, their cart loaded with the many blue cranes they’d caught.
It’s just... Why do I get this uncomfortable feeling...? Zen asked himself.
He’d surmised from their appearance that they were hunters, but they didn’t feel like it.