Boukensha Ni Naritai To Miyako Ni Deteitta Musume Ga S Rank Ni Natteta Chapter 7

The village of Tornela is in a rush to prepare for winter.
When it comes time to harvest the chestnuts and walnuts, the persimmons, apples, and pears and so forth planted around the village, they would hold back more on snacking on them and instead dry or boil them to preserve them. They could also make apple cider.
The rock cowberries and mountain grapes gathered from the mountain by Belgriff, with a few helpers, are dried and stored away.
Several of the more aged goats and sheep are slaughtered to make jerky or salted meat.
Fish fished from the river are dried or smoked.
The potatoes are dug up and stored.
Legumes are harvested and dried.
In preparation for planting more seeds the wheat fields are ploughed.
Firewood is prepared and distributed to every house.

After getting through the necessary preparations for these jobs an autumn festival is held in the s.p.a.ce in front of the village church.

Father Maurice shouts out in a loud voice.

“Hey! Could you lower it a bit, it’ll hit the entrance like that! No, not like that! If it’s tilted like that it’ll hit the side! Ah! Hey, be more careful!”

A Viena idol is being carried from the church’s main hall to the open s.p.a.ce. Since the stone statue is bulky and heavy and without the help of several men couldn’t be moved, yet the church entrance is small, every year there’s a huge panic making sure it doesn’t hit anything. Though the statue itself rarely gets damaged, there have been times when the doorway’s wooden frame was bent or broken because of it.
And this year Mourice is more nervous than ever, since they had just finished the church’s restoration after all.
Every time the workers slant the statue, raise it, lower it, Father Maurice would yell out hysterically, sending the spectating villagers into laughter. Belgriff too, laughs while watching this scene.

Several years ago, in his thirties, he had also held the responsibility of carrying the statue out, but now it’s the job of the younger generation.
Belgriff is now also one of the people with heavy responsibility and standing within the village. Leaving aside the jobs he volunteers in doing, he isn’t given any heavy-labour jobs like this any more.
The reasoning for this is apparently that the energetic youngsters need somewhere to demonstrate their strength, and if the older generation steps in too much before the youth are eventually left responsible for the village then the systems built up would fall into disarray from inexperience.
Though despite that, aside from jobs like these, Belgriff and the older generation still do work on jobs together with the youth often.

The statue was, after much trouble, finally carried outside. Though not before hitting the entrance several times. The milky-white statue s.h.i.+nes brightly, reflecting the mid-autumn sun. Likely since Father Maurice diligently polishes it every day.

“The season has come again this year, hasn’t it Kerry?”
“Yeah, time sure flies! We were able to stock up on plenty this year. Being able to not worry about the winter and just enjoy ourselves is really relaxing, hahaha!”

Kerry laughs, his large belly swaying around.
The winter is a harsh season for northerners. Over half of every day is overcast with heavy clouds, the winds are freezing, and if it’s snowing then it’s a trial to go outside.
But as long as they’ve properly prepared for it, the winter can also be a fun season.
If there are family members they’ve been unable to talk to due to spending too much time labouring they can take it easy and spend time with them, and the stars of a clear night sky can s.h.i.+ne brighter and more beautifully than they would in the summer. If it snows the children would forget about the cold and go out excited even with only light clothing on.
That’s why everyone spends this time in autumn working their hardest to prepare for winter.

A large, bear-like man walks over. He has a chiseled face and a bunch of some white stuff stuck in his hair. The large man, looking over the s.p.a.ce, laughs heartily.

“This year’s preparations are going good as ever!”
“Hey, chief. Is there something you need me to do?”

In reply to Belgriff the village chief, Hoffman, laughs even greater.

“Gahahahah, hey now Bell! When you get to your age all you need to do is sit back and watch over the young’uns! If ya step in too much the kids’ll never grow up, will they!”
“You’re right, but… I’m bored.”
“At your age and you’re still restless? That’s no good, is it!? If you’re bored then spend your time havin’ fun!”

Hoffman laughs, patting Belgriff on the back. Belgriff smiles wryly and plays with his beard, realising that it might actually be a bit childish to be restless when you have nothing to do.
Hoffman is the son of the former village chief who pa.s.sed away two years ago, and is eight years older than Belgriff.
Despite being almost fifty he hasn’t shown any signs of becoming weaker, he is blessed with a great physique and with his overly-honest and open personality he is loved by the people of the village. The only ones to not look at Belgriff in scorn and instead treat him properly after he first returned to the village were really just Kerry and Hoffman. Belgriff still feels grateful to Hoffman for that.

“Hey, Kerry. A caravan came into town, where should we guide them?”
“What? They’ve sure come early this year. They usually come late in the afternoon. Though the festival s.p.a.ce is still full of people working, so… Wait a bit, I’ll get a s.p.a.ce opened up real quick.”

On the day of Tornela’s autumn festival, caravans and peddlers, and wandering entertainers, gather here coming from all over the country.
There are some that just love having fun at festivals, but most of them come to barter with various goods having heard of Tornela’s quality supplies. The villagers look forward to listening to the peddlers’ travel stories and the vagrants’ tales, songs, and dances.

Hoffman heads for the village entrance and Kerry gives orders to the younger people, making the area less crowded so the merchants have s.p.a.ce to set up their stalls.
The statue of the King of the G.o.ds, Viena, somehow still in one piece, is carried out of the church and placed on top of a solid pedestal. The children decorate its surroundings with flowers, and fruits and goat meat are offered up to it.

With nothing to do, Belgriff goes on a walk, patrolling the village perimeter while he’s at it. Even if the village is having a festival that doesn’t mean that magic or wild beasts can’t wander in.
But since defeating the Ice Hound, the surroundings have been the very definition of peaceful. So even if you call it patrolling, the air hasn’t been very tense lately and Belgriff can’t bring himself to really be tense either.
But despite that he continues to properly stay attentive to the surroundings as he circles the village.
When he returns to the festival s.p.a.ce he finds that a caravan has already arrived, currently in the middle of unloading their goods and setting up the tents for their stalls, and some of the faster-working merchants are already advertising their goods to the villagers. The vagrants and minstrels play music to kill time and the children stare at curious items from foreign countries with stars in their eyes.
Even though preparations aren’t yet complete, the village is already filled with a festive atmosphere. No matter how old you get you still can’t help but love these, Belgriff thinks to himself, smiling.

Belgriff calls out to some nearby merchants, chatting with them and offering them some rock cowberries and mountain grapes.
Merchants tend to try to pick up information on adventurers’ exploits and general worldly knowledge. And there are currently a lot of them all around the area. They might know something about Angeline.

“Ah, you mean the “Black Haired Valkyrie,” right?! She’s like the guardian deity of everywhere close to Orphen. Thanks to her I can relax whenever I head anywhere around there. She’s a real blessing.”
“But still, a party with just three young girls in it’s really rare. And yet despite that they’re impressive enough to be able to be considered one of the best adventurer parties not just in the Orphen area but possibly within the entire country.”

Tornela, Orphen, and Boldor, as well as the areas around them, are all part of the Grand Duchy of Estgarl.
Because of how large its territory is, it is split up into multiple smaller territories and those are then enfeoffed to and governed by each region’s lords, such as Count Boldor. The land of Estgarl governed directly by the duke, is located south of Orphen.
And that Estgarl Grand Duchy is part of the Rhodesia Empire, which is located in the north-western corner of the continent.

Belgriff is satisfied, knowing that his daughter’s reputation is favourable.
Most adventurers are wanderers and people with rough dispositions. And since fights-to-the-death are a daily occurrence for them, they have a tendency to put their own profit before all else. Due to acting like such so frequently, the amount of adventurers labelled as things like ‘ruffians’ aren’t few. If you’re able to become S Ranked then you shouldn’t have to worry about that, but regardless Belgriff still wants to know the public opinion of his daughter.
He doesn’t constantly bring up his daughter to brag however. A bit of him doesn’t want another Sasha incident, after all. It would be a bit troubling if people kept on making a big fuss out of it in front of him as well.

As he is watching over the festival area and sipping on some wine, a blue-haired female merchant rushes over to him.

“Uhm, g’day.”
“Hm? Ah, good day to you too. What is it?”
“I happened to overhear your conversation and, could you possibly be Mr. “Red Ogre” Belgriff?”

Belgriff’s mouth gapes open. There it is again. Red Ogre.

“Uh, well, yes, I am Belgriff…”

The merchant girl suddenly smiles broadly.

“I knew it! I thought so since you were talking about Miss Angeline just before, and because you’ve got splendid red hair! Your daughter fended off some robbers for me when I was about to be attacked by them!”

Belgriff is surprised. Angeline’s name sure appears in unexpected places a lot.

Just when he’s about to ask her to tell him more, the people around the village entrance start getting rowdy. Something like the clanking of metal armour can be heard. And it sounds like that sound is heading straight for the festival area.
As Belgriff looks over there, he sees a group of men clad in full-body light armour, seemingly escorting a two-horse carriage as it approaches. Those that have gathered in the festival area exchange glances in bewilderment.

“Hey, that’s Count Boldor’s family crest ‘innit?”
“What’s the lord want here?”

A sudden strong bad feeling hits Belgriff as he watches the now-stopped carriage.
From inside steps out a woman, looking only barely older than twenty. Possibly due to the fact that she’s travelling, she is wearing a light dress. Her platinum-blonde hair is done up in a french braid, and her facial features give off the feeling of someone with a determined spirit, giving off a neatly arranged beauty. Belgriff has the feeling he has seen her somewhere before.

“If it’s someone from the Boldor House, then…”

As Belgriff’s bad premonition slowly bloats up larger and larger, the woman awkwardly, and a bit abashedly, glances around the area. She then calls out in a dignified voice.

“I am very sorry for surprising you all. I am currently looking for someone.”

The people exchange glances again. Who could she be looking for?
The village chief, Hoffman, panickedly steps forward and bows his head.

“‘M the village chief, Hoffman… May I take it that ‘yer of the Boldor House?”
“Ah, I apologise for my belated introduction. I am known as Helvetica Boldor. As my father has pa.s.sed away as of a few days prior, I have been officially appointed as the new count.”

Hoffman hurriedly drops to his knees.

“Even if I din’t realise you’re the new lord, for me to’ve…”

Helvetica quickly runs over and gets Hoffman to stand back up.

“No, no, please do not be so formal. I am not very fond of the idea of displaying my authority after all.”

Helvetica speaks gently, with a friendly smile on her face. However her demeanour is full of grace with an atmosphere as if carelessly speaking out to her would not be forgiven. ‘I see, so this is what makes a lord’, Belgriff thinks.
Hoffman meekly watches Helvetica, before nervously speaking up.

“It’s a real honour for the lord to’ve come in person to our humble village… However we’ve n.o.body who’s been sheltering sinners here.”

The woman vacantly opens her mouth, then suddenly begins giggling.

“Ah, there is no need to worry about that. I did not come here to catch any criminals. I have come here as I wish to meet for myself this man known as Sir “Red Ogre” Belgriff.”
“Huh? You came for Bell?”

The villagers’ gazes converge on Belgriff. And there’s that Red Ogre again. Belgriff uncomfortably shrinks back. The blue-haired merchant lets out a “Whoo” of admiration.
Likely singling Belgriff out due to everyone staring at him, Helvetica smartly walks over to him, and with stars in her eyes takes his hand.

“You are Sir Belgriff, correct?”
“…Y-yes.”
“I am extremely grateful to your daughter for saving my youngest sister.”
“Oh, well uh, thanks.”

Belgriff gives up and makes a troubled laugh. He can feel his phantom pains start acting up again. Helvetica smiles.

The story of the three Boldor sisters is famous in the area.
Despite being only fifteen, the youngest daughter, Selen, has already begun to show talent concerning internal administration, and the middle daughter, Sasha, is a person of great valour, thought to be able to eventually, without doubt, rise up to S Rank.
Then there’s the eldest daughter, Helvetica.
Accomplished both in literature and military arts, as well as being a charismatic individual, she is an excelling woman said to eventually be granted her own territory as a countess even without having to marry a man and take him into her family.
And that Helvetica is currently right in front of him, holding his hand and smiling at him. What else can he do but give a strained smile?

But Belgriff senses, behind that friendly smile of Helvetica’s, a sharp gaze like that of someone hunting their prey. There’s no way she would have come all the way here just to greet him.
She slowly looks Belgriff over from head to toe, and smiles brightly.

“Your body seems well trained. I have heard that your swordsmans.h.i.+p is quite marvelous as well.”
“Well, uhm… That is… Thank you…”

Belgriff feels somehow completely overwhelmed by this woman, a head shorter than him. Admiring this in a strange way, he starts to wonder whether those of great talent are naturally able to engulf a person just by staring face to face with them.
Helvetica narrows her eyes.

“I have come here today to ask a favour of you.”
“I see.”
“I will say it straightforth. We would greatly appreciate it if you were to come serve under us of the Boldor House.”

So it really was like that.
Belgriff slumps over, drained. Sasha likely told Helvetica some exaggerated story about Belgriff, the man who defeated her. But still, he didn’t expect the head of the family to come herself, in person.
Regardless he has no plans to do anything of the sort. It’s too heavy a burden for him. Smiling wryly, Belgriff silently shakes his head.

“I sincerely apologise, but I have no plans of leaving Tornela. I’m already turning forty-two, and my body isn’t getting any healthier. I don’t believe I would be of much help now.”
“What nonsense are you spouting? Sasha is, despite how she acts, peerless in her swordsmans.h.i.+p within the Boldor area. I very much wish for you, who was able to easily defeat her, to become my own.”

It wasn’t easily- is what he would like to say, but the real problem isn’t with that.

“No, possibly due to my adventurer past, I have never been very good with courtly formalities. I am humbled that you would go out of your way to find me, however I must refuse.”
“Could you please?”
“No…”
“If there is anything you desire that is within our power, I will put word in.”
“Even so…”
“I’m begging you, please become mine.”
“I sincerely apologise, but…”

After continuing this back-and-forth for a while, Helvetica cutely frowns, frustrated.

“I see, it seems like you have a rock-hard head to suit your rock-hard body.”
“I was born with it, and for that I apologise.”

Helvetica smiles.
It seems she’s finally given up, Belgriff thinks to himself, exhaling in relief when,

“Then I shall have to take you by force.”
“…Huh?”
“I’m counting on you, everyone!”

As Helvetica gives the order, the lightly-armoured group standing behind her surround Belgriff. It seems like they’re Helvetica’s guards. Since it seems they only plan to capture him, they don’t show any intent to draw their weapons. Surprised, the spectators move a distance away.
Belgriff stands there dumbfounded while the guards slowly approach him, until he starts to think of the situation as strangely comical and begins laughing greatly. Including of course the guards currently surrounding him, the crowd watching as well as Helvetica are all taken aback by Belgriff’s laughing.

She’s just a kid.
Even if she’s the new lord, or if she’s praised as a genius, she’s still just a girl only around twenty years old, Belgriff realises and laughs to himself.
‘In that case I should just act like an adult.’

Belgriff swiftly dodges the guards that come jumping at him. They all end up cras.h.i.+ng into each other and making a fuss. Belgriff fixes his posture and changes stance.

“Don’t you think you’re a bit too old to be playing tag?”

Belgriff dodges, parries, and throws the charging guards, dealing with them with an elegance that you couldn’t imagine came from someone using a peg-leg.
And after almost a whole hour has pa.s.sed, the guards all end up totally exhausted and unable to move.

Belgriff recovers his breath, also slightly harsher after the workout, and faces Helvetica. She stands there, mouth half-gaping. As if she can’t believe what just happened in front of her.

“Anyway, as I told you before I have no plans to accept your matter on 仕官.”

Helvetica hangs her head, crestfallen.

“It is my complete loss then, it seems…”

It seems like she has actually given up this time. Belgriff, relieved, slumps over. But in the next moment he feels something soft against his arm. When Belgriff looks over, surprised, he sees Helvetica clinging to his arm.

“Since it has come down to this… It looks like I have no choice but to become yours, Sir Belgriff!”
“…Huh?”
“Although I may still be inexperienced, please take good care of me…”

Helvetica’s face turns red, as if she were embarra.s.sed. Her voluminous chest touching his arm, felt through the fabric of her dress, is extremely soft.
Belgriff stops thinking, his eyes darting around confusedly as the situation takes a turn for the completely unexpected.
The spectators are making a riot.

“Huh? What? Hey Mr. Bell, are you gonna end up marrying into the Boldor House?”
“Whoa, you’re a real gold digger!”
“Naah, that’s wrong! The lord’s tryin’ ta marry inta Bell’s family!”
“The autumn festival’s gonna turn into a marriage festival!”
“What a surprise!”
“Hey, bring the drinks!”
“Where’s Father Maurice!?”

At that time, the clopping of hooves can be heard as several people riding on horses barge in. The surprised crowd hurriedly run out of the way.
Atop the horse that has stopped in front of Belgriff sits a girl wearing gla.s.ses. The girl smoothly jumps off her horse. She is the third daughter of the Boldor House, Selen Boldor herself.

“Helvetica! Just what are you planning on doing, coming out here!?”

Selen angrily approaches Helvetica, who laughs slightly stiltedly.

“Selen, I was only planning on inviting Sir Be-”
“You were planning on taking him by force, weren’t you!?”

She was spot-on. Helvetica, laughing awkwardly, squeezes against Belgriff as if to deceive her into thinking that was a misunderstanding. Seeing her act like that, Selen pouts her lips and drags Helvetica away from Belgriff by the scruff of her neck.

“Lock her in the carriage!”
“Wh!?”

Men who seem like Selen’s guards push Helvetica into the carriage. You can barely tell which of the two’s the older sister like this. Selen turns around to face Belgriff and bows her head sharply.

“I sincerely apologise for the trouble we have caused… Sir Belgriff, correct?”
“Huh?”

Finally returning to his senses and seeing Selen bowing her head in front of him, Belgriff hurriedly bows back. Selen knits her eyebrows, looking apologetic.

“My name is Selen Boldor. My life was previously saved by your daughter, Lady Angeline, who also helped me to see my father in the last moments of his life. A dictionary would not hold enough words to truly demonstrate my grat.i.tude. Yet, despite that… please, Sir Belgriff, forgive my sister for her rudeness.”
“No, I wasn’t bothered at all by it so don’t worry about that.”
“I thank you for that… Normally my sister would be someone worthy of respect, but she has something of an obsession with people of talent… When she hears rumours of people of excellence with no affiliation she would immediately rush out to see them…”

She’s like a child wanting a new toy. Belgriff smiles awkwardly.
Selen continues.

“Although thanks to that development of the territory has sped up, there have been a couple of cases where she has forcibly taken people that refused with her… Helvetica! Are you properly reflecting on your actions!?”
“Yes, I am! I won’t do it anymore so please just let me out, Selen!”
“No, you are not getting out! This time I definitely will not let you off until we get back home! For you to have done something like that to our benefactor’s father… Seriously!”

Belgriff tries to calm the furious Selen down.

“Now, now. I really wasn’t bothered by it, so… Well, although it is true that I would be grateful if she didn’t do it again.”
“I am very sorry for having you be so considerate of us… Now, everyone! We are in the way here so let us head back home!”

Selen gives her orders out clearly and sets off back to Boldor. Belgriff hesitates, deliberating about what to do before consulting with Hoffman. Afterwards, he calls out to Selen, currently mounting her horse.

“You will have to camp overnight mid-journey if you start heading back now.”

Selen turns around to face him.

“Yes, but we have no choice. We were the ones who came here of our own accord, after all.”
“Tonight is the village’s autumn festival. If you’d like, why not join us in it?”

Selen touches her gla.s.ses, surprised.

“Huh…? But…”
“If the lord were to partic.i.p.ate in our festival, it would raise the value of our village. Isn’t that right, chief?”

In reply, Hoffman speaks out in an energetic voice.

“Yes, yes that’s right! It’s not exactly the most elegant place but we’d love for you ta attend!”

The crowd starts hollering that the chief is the real inelegant one. Hoffman raises his eyebrows and shouts out.

“Shut up, ya gits! …Oh! Sorry about that…”

Hoffman shrinks away and hides behind Belgriff. Selen giggles and nimbly dismounts from her horse.

“Then, may I take you up on that offer?”
“With one condition. Please let Lady Helvetica out of the carriage.”

Selen widens her eyes in surprise, but then gives up and shakes her head before turning to the the carriage and gesturing something with her hands. The door opens and Helvetica gets out, and then immediately rushes over.

“Sir Belgriff! You have truly saved me, thank you!”
“Haha, no, it wasn’t anything as grand as that…”
“How benevolent… I really do think you should come with…”
“Helvetica!!”
“Th, that was just a joke, Selen…”
“Good grief… The next time you do it I really will lock you in the carriage, okay!?”

Selen puffs up her cheeks while leading the horse away. Helvetica secretly whispers into Belgriff’s ear.

“She is usually a lot more gentle.”

Belgriff laughs.

Below the starry sky, the sweet sisters of the Boldor House mix with the crowd. It would be impossible for the autumn festival to not be full of energy.
Winter is coming.