Chapter 27
Heidi, the daughter of a knight, knew exactly what that light was: sword aura. It was the phenomenon where a swordsman who had reached a certain level infused mana into their weapon to enhance its cutting power.
Of course, a steel crowbar wasn’t a sword, so calling it sword aura wasn’t technically correct—but just like calling an ostrich cart a carriage, they decided to call it that anyway.
More than anything, it rolls right off the tongue.
Rather than dwelling on terminology, she chose to focus on the battle of this rare and skilled sword-aura user.
Ber charged toward the ogre with his weapon raised. Lowering his stance, he swept his blade horizontally at the ogre’s legs.
Wobble—.
“Uwaaa!”
The ogre lost its balance and began to topple forward. The attack worked beautifully—except for one fatal problem.
A massive shadow of the falling ogre loomed over the spot where the mandrake was growing.
Nooo, we’re back to square one! At this rate, the mandrake’s going to get crushed!
Fssshhh—.
As if things weren’t bad enough, the blue light wrapped around Ber’s steel crowbar flickered and went out.
“For beginner sword-aura users, maintaining aura requires an extremely high level of concentration. Even the slightest lapse, and the aura disappears.”
Out of nowhere, a line from one of her father’s tedious lectures about sword aura resurfaced in her mind.
They were screwed. With nothing but an ordinary steel crowbar, there was no way he could cut through the ogre’s tough hide.
You said you were a first-rank mercenary! A first-rank mercenary!
Though the situation looked hopeless at first glance, Heidi forced herself to stay calm. After all, even if the sky fell, there had to be a way out.
As if by a miracle, a good idea flashed through her mind.
If they could deliver a powerful blow to the ogre’s head, wouldn’t the recoil make it fall backward?
Just then, Heidi happened to be holding a small shovel. A perfectly adequate weapon for delivering a solid impact to an ogre.
Decision made, she raised the hand gripping the shovel high into the air.
Her mind drifted back to her days as a civil servant, when she’d been forced by her department head to give up a precious weekend to attend a company retreat.
That afternoon, they’d played a dodgeball game. She remembered hurling the ball with all her strength straight at her boss’s face.
Alright. From this moment on, the ogre’s forehead was her boss’s face.
The memory came back vividly. The resentment over her stolen weekend, the disgust she’d felt toward workplace injustice—she poured it all into the hand gripping the shovel.
Daughter of a knight. Heidi.
I’ve realized it. The essence of striking.
She hurled the shovel with all her might.
Thwack!
Thanks to her intense concentration, the shovel embedded itself squarely in the ogre’s forehead.
“U—gghhh!”
Staggering, the ogre tipped backward after taking the hit between the eyes. Thud—the sound of its massive body crashing onto the grass.
“Heidi, that was sooo cool!”
It was only after Theo’s praise that Heidi realized the mandrake had been saved.
She finally let out a sigh of relief.
“Guuuut~!”
Tasuni stared at her with shining eyes. Spreading its wings and lowering its head, it looked almost like it was curtseying.
The process had been chaotic, but in the end, the mandrake was safe—and that was what mattered.
“As expected of the daughter of the Primavera Knights.”
As Heidi relaxed, Ber—who had approached without her noticing—praised her.
“Phew. Any farmer worth their salt should be able to handle a shovel, right? That said, you were amazing too, Ber. That just now—that was sword aura, wasn’t it?”
“Yes. Embarrassingly enough, I am a sword-aura user.”
“Oh, come on, no need to be modest. Being a sword-aura user at twenty-four is incredible!”
“No. If only I were a little stronger, I could have taken down an ogre without trouble…”
Ber spoke with genuine regret, leaving Heidi at a loss for words.
Sword aura was an extraordinary level of mastery.
To someone like her, who had been utterly average her entire life, it felt like the incomprehensible struggles of a genius.
“Honestly! If other swordsmen heard that, they’d be offended. Even talented swordsmen usually only reach sword aura around their thirties, after years of training.”
Unable to help herself, Heidi started lecturing him.
She knew this because even her parents—both sword prodigies who had devoted their lives to swordsmanship—had only become sword-aura users after turning thirty.
“Is that so?”
“Yes! You’re still young, Ber. Just keep working at it steadily. Don’t rush, okay? You’re already doing more than well enough! Slicing an ogre’s legs like that isn’t something just anyone can do. Confidence is important, got it?”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
At her encouragement, Ber’s eyes curved slightly. At least he seemed to be feeling better, which was a relief.
After finishing their gathering, the group returned to Rium.
From a distance, they heard Tasuni’s cry.
“Guuuut!”
The creature was tearing into ogre meat with a satisfied expression. Thanks to the coachman kindly cooking it for him, the meat was nicely browned.
Perhaps the true winner of today’s expedition was Tasuni.
Heidi made a request of Ber.
“Ber, could you prepare that empty plot over there for planting the mandrake?”
“Yes. How would you like it prepared?”
“It’s a shade-loving plant, so could you set up some cover? It also can’t dry out, so we’ll need straw to cover the soil…”
“Understood.”
“Leave it to us! Ber and I will get it ready!”
Theo answered confidently, kneading Ber’s neck as he perched on his shoulders.
While they went to fetch materials from the storage shed, Heidi handed the harvested mandrake to the coachman.
“Sir, could you take a look at this for me?”
Since the coachman knew mandrakes well, she figured it would be best to have him assess its condition before selling it.
“Hmmm… yes, this is definitely a good mandrake.”
“Really? Then how much could I get per root?”
After a brief pause, the coachman spoke regretfully.
“Well… unfortunately, I don’t think you can sell it right away. Mandrakes only develop medicinal properties once they’re about as thick as a customer’s forearm.”
The mandrake root she’d harvested was only as thick as her index finger—clearly still young.
It was a bit disappointing that she couldn’t make a quick fortune, but farming was all about patience anyway. She decided to take it in stride.
“How long would it take to grow it until it can be sold?”
“It depends on how fertile the soil is, but even with various fertilizers, it would take at least six months. Ahh, if only you could get it right away…”
The coachman muttered weakly, uncharacteristically dejected, his head drooping.
Heidi understood his feelings all too well.
From the context, it was clear the coachman wasn’t exactly brimming with vigor and was eyeing the mandrake for its benefits.
It was a matter of pride, wasn’t it?
She couldn’t help but feel sorry for him—how long must he have worried, how much hope must he have placed in this?
Since he’d been so proactive in helping with the mandrake gathering, Heidi wanted to help him too.
“Is there any way to grow mandrakes faster?”
“There is… but, well, it’s something only the Pope can do.”
Come to think of it, the coachman had mentioned that mandrakes were grown exclusively in the Grand Temple’s herb garden. Since the Pope was its head, that connection made sense.
“What is it?”
“The Pope’s divine power. Her blessing makes plants grow quickly and healthily. Thanks to her personal blessings, the mandrakes in the herb garden grow to forearm size in just one month.”
“Wow, isn’t that basically a cheat ability? Why would the gods give that power to the Pope and not to a farmer like me… I’d use it way better.”
Pouting, Heidi felt a wave of jealousy rise up inside her.
With a divine power that could make plants grow rapidly, becoming a wealthy landowner who controlled the empire’s economy would be easy.
“Right? The gods really are unfair. With that ability, the Grand Temple practically monopolizes mandrakes, growing them so efficiently that small farmers can’t even break even and end up giving up.”
She’d always wondered why such a high-profit crop was monopolized by the Papacy. Now it made sense.
“What? That’s blatant abuse of power!”
Having spent two years personally reclaiming barren land and making farming her livelihood, Heidi deeply understood the grievances of farmers.
If a competitor with an overwhelming advantage entered the market from the very starting line, making it impossible even to recover fertilizer costs, she too would have no choice but to abandon farming—rotting inside with frustration.
“You think that’s all?”
At that moment, the coachman continued, eyes gleaming.
