Volume 1 Chapter 4 Sister-in-law Teressa
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
I followed Nika through the back door and into the main house.
The kitchen was already alive with the brewing of the day’s ale, the air thick and heavy with the toasted, nutty aroma of roasted malt.
It felt like nothing had gone right since I woke up.
I dropped the bundle of firewood beside the hearth and let out a long, weary sigh, only to be met with another sharp glare from Nika.
First getting smacked by Hans-niisan and then getting chewed out by Nika… my luck was absolutely in the gutter today.
Still, my mind kept drifting back to that bizarrely vivid dream.
Terms like “DT” and “Idol”-words I should have never even heard of-kept bubbling up in my consciousness.
For some reason, I understood exactly what they meant.
(Actually, whatever. It doesn’t matter.) Right now, I was headed for pure bliss: I was going to help my sister-in-law.
I needed to get my head in the game.
Maidservants scurried through the kitchen in a frantic blur, some tending to the ale while others boiled linens or kneaded mounds of dough.
Nika dropped her load and vanished upstairs without a word.
”Keep it up, everyone,” I called out to the working girls before making my way toward the Village Head Tower¹.
The tower had two points of entry: the main front gate facing the village square, and the back door connected to our main house by a covered walkway.
It sat just past the latrines.
Usually, the front doors of the tower only opened for official business during the final three days of the month.
From noon until sunset, the village head would hear petitions and process paperwork.
During the tax season in December, however, the doors stayed open on every odd-numbered day to handle the influx of payments.
Back in the old days, a small bazaar would spring up in front of the tower during these periods, earning it the name “The Monthly Market.” The tax-month version was even more notorious-it was called “The Flesh Market².” They say that back then, people desperate to settle their debts would sell off their household goods, their wives, or even their children.
Fortunately, this village was blessed with fertile land, so no one here had ever been sold off.
Those dark days ended with the Great Plague anyway; now, “Monthly Market” and “Flesh Market” were just names people used to mark the end of the calendar.
Speaking of calendars, our months are twenty-eight days long, with thirteen months in a year.
The thirteenth month occasionally gains a twenty-ninth day to account for the leap year, making the following January 1st the winter solstice.
Tomorrow would be the twenty-sixth of the tenth month-the opening day of the Monthly Market.
With wheat-planting season just around the corner, people would be swarming in to borrow seed grain.
It was going to be a madhouse.
After my eldest brother, Iffens, was killed in action, there was a lot of confusion about who would take over the village administration.
On Uncle Klaus’s orders, Teressa-sama-who had always assisted my brother-would serve as the deputy, with Uncle coming in to oversee things personally.
Uncle Klaus is a vassal who handles the finances for a Viscount, so the paperwork should be child’s play for him.
I was more worried about the social side of things.
Some of these villagers are real pieces of work, complaining that a bale is light or the grain quality is poor just to dodge interest.
I wondered if a “city slicker” like Uncle could handle the local headaches.
Even if Uncle Klaus’s presence was going to be a drag, I didn’t care.
A few days ago, Teressa-sama had personally asked me to help her with the preparations.
I’d jumped at the chance, ditching my usual field chores to spend my days at the tower.
I hurried down the walkway and skipped up the five stone steps to the tower, two at a time.
The heavy oak door was already propped open, though a secondary door of iron bars remained shut.
I gave the bars a light rattle and called out.
A moment later, my sister-in-law appeared.
”Thank you for coming, Larry,” she said, turning the key.
”Sorry I’m late,” I stammered.
”Don’t be silly. You’re a life-saver.” My sister-in-law, who had temporarily lost all expression when my eldest brother died, was likely regaining her physical and mental strength day by day, though the dark circles under her eyes hadn’t disappeared.
She welcomed me with the smile I loved.
Just seeing it made the world feel right again.
As I followed her inside, her scent-that delicate, sophisticated fragrance-wrapped around me and sent my heart into a tailspin.
”Wait, where’s Maria?” My three-month-old niece was usually tucked into a baby basket right next to the desk, but the office was empty today.
”I asked Monica-san to look after her. Her youngest just finished weaning, and she offered to watch Lyrica as well.”
”Oh, right.”
Monica Getys was a childhood friend, about a year older than me.
Her husband had been part of the supply train for my brother Iffens during the war; he’d taken an arrow and died right alongside him.
The funeral had been a joint affair between our families.
At the time, I remember being moved-and a bit pained-by how Monica had held herself together for my sister-in-law’s sake, despite being the younger widow.
”She said being around the kids helps keep her mind off things,” Teressa-sama added quietly.
It was still a shock to think about.
Monica had been a total tomboy, but then she’d suddenly married into a local farm at thirteen.
She had twins at fourteen, and was a widow by fifteen.
It was a lot for anyone to handle.
Her in-laws were old-money farmers who had been here since the beginning, so she wasn’t going to starve, but raising twins alone was no small feat-especially since that little boy was now the sole heir to the estate.
Plus, like us, they’d lost their elders to the plague.
I was amazed she had the energy to babysit.
”Don’t worry,” Teressa-sama said, seeing the look on my face.
”I’m sending Yutia over to help her this afternoon.” She stepped behind the massive desk and began meticulously organizing the scattered sheets of parchment.
The first floor of the tower was all cold stone and narrow, slit-like windows.
Between the shadows and the dim glow of the Magic Tool Lamps³, the room felt heavy and enclosed.
The office took up most of the floor and was cordoned off by an iron cage.
During the market, villagers would petition from the outside.
If it was just a simple tax payment or a birth report, we did it through the bars.
If it involved loans or serious negotiations, we let them inside to sit at the oak furniture in the reception area.
”First things first,” she said, handing me a bundle.
”Could you take these back up to the archives? Here’s the key.” The stairs to the second floor hugged the wall, curving up directly over the main entrance.
I took half of the heavy parchments and made my way up.
Up in the archives, there were no Magic Lamps, only a tiny clerestory window that let in a sliver of grey light.
The north wall was a labyrinth of shelves, each dedicated to a village family in the order they’d settled the land.
The Fee family had held the Village Head position for over a century, and while there were only about forty active households now, the records of twenty defunct families-those wiped out by the plague or who had simply fled-still gathered dust on the shelves.
I spent quite a while slotting the records of land deeds, family trees, and grain loans back into their proper places.
”Could you double-check these calculations for me?” When I finished, she handed me a fresh sheet of parchment.
For a split second, her slender fingers brushed against mine.
My heart did a little backflip.
(God, I love these little moments.) (Oh boy…) Back when we first met, I had to crane my neck to look at her.
But I’d hit a growth spurt; now I was her height, maybe even a hair taller.
Her golden hair, which she’d cut short after the baby, shimmered like silk even in the poor light.
She was still so slender, with those long, elegant limbs.
She had a wool jacket over her blouse, but her chest was… well, it was definitely there.
The fabric was pulled tight, the buttons looking like they were fighting for their lives.
She was so beautiful.
And she had this air about her-refined and graceful, without ever being stuck-up.
When she’d first arrived from the city with her frilled dresses, earrings, and those perfect ringlets, the whole village had gone into an uproar.
”A real city girl,” they’d said.
I was hopeless.
My eyes just kept tracking her.
I wanted to stay like this forever, just watching her work.
But I knew if I stared too much, I’d come off as a creep.
I forced my eyes back down to the parchment, feeling like I was tearing off a fresh scab.
As I worked at the clerk’s desk near the window, her scent drifted over again.
I’d first really noticed it a year ago.
When the plague took the local priest, Teressa-sama had stepped up to teach us kids how to read and do math.
She’d write on the chalkboard, then walk around and check our work in our little sand-boxes.
If I made a mistake, she’d lean over me from behind, her hand guiding mine, her face so close I could feel the warmth of her breath.
That was the first time I’d ever really been aware of a woman’s scent.
Since then, I could pick her out of a crowd with my eyes closed.
Sometimes, if no one was around, I’d follow her just a little bit, just to stay in her orbit.
It was my secret little ritual.
”Larry?” Her voice snapped me out of it.
”Ah! Sorry!”
”Are you okay?” I realized I’d been staring into space.
I mumbled a quick “I’m fine” and buried my face in the paperwork.
”You’re a strange one,” she giggled.
”I’ll take the next batch up. You just focus on those numbers.” I pretended to work, but my eyes were glued to her as she started up the stairs.
(Idiot.
Stop it.) I remembered something Nika told me once.
I’d asked her why women’s skirts puffed out so much in the back-did they have long butts or something? She’d laughed herself hoarse and called me a moron.
Later, she explained it was just a style meant to look “elegant” and keep the hem from tripping them up, but she never did explain the mechanics of it.
I couldn’t help but watch the way the hem of her skirt swayed, catching glimpses of her slender ankles in her white stockings.
Then she cleared the landing and disappeared from view.
”I’m a weirdo, aren’t I?” I whispered to the empty room.
I gave my cheeks a few good slaps to wake myself up and got back to the math.
”All done. The numbers are perfect.” I’d verified the poll taxes, the loan balances, and the total projected revenue for the village.
Everything was spot on.
”Thank you, Larry. You’ve really saved me a headache. Preparations are officially done! So…” she leaned in, her eyes sparkling. “How’s the magic practice coming along?”
Magic.
(Yes! The best part!) She didn’t just teach me math and manners.
Whenever we had a spare moment, she taught me magic.
Just me.
It was basic stuff-gathering mana in your palms, compressing it, and spinning it until it ignited.
”Fireball” was the entry-level spell, but apparently, you can’t even get that far if you don’t have the “spark.” At first, I could barely manage a thumb-sized puff of steam.
But now, I could compress it into a tiny, wheat-sized bead that glowed a faint, angry red-yellow.
It was just enough to light a candle, but she told me that once it turned white, it could melt straight through iron.
It was a small thing, but seeing the progress was a rush.
But honestly? There was something even better than the magic itself.
”Well then,” Teressa said, her voice steady. “Let’s do the usual.”
The “usual” was a magical warm-up exercise known as kumite⁴. We faced one another, both extending our hands in a practiced ritual. I gripped her hands—my left on top, my right supporting from below. The mere contact made my face flush. We began the flow, channeling mana from our left hands into the other’s right. It was a closed loop, the energy received by the right hand circulating through our bodies before being passed back again.
At first, the meridians⁵ in my body had been thin and prone to blockages, unable to return even a fraction of the power I received. But they had thickened over time. Now, I could return a significant portion of the flow. Since the volume and speed of this circulation dictated one’s magical strength, this exercise was vital for growth. Of course, improving my magic was important, but the true reward was simpler: the joy of holding hands with Teressa-sama, standing so close I could feel her warmth.
”I’m starting,” Teressa said.
Wrapped in her sweet scent, I lightly squeezed her moist, slender hands. My heartbeat thundered, embarrassingly loud in the quiet room. Immediately, a prickling sensation surged through our joined right hands as her mana entered my system. The prickling soon gave way to a deep warmth, traveling through the meridians in my arms before radiating into my chest and throughout my entire body. I pushed back, flowing my own mana from my left hand into hers. Usually, the energy I received would stagnate, but today was different. The mana pooled in my right shoulder suddenly broke free, rushing forth as if a dam had burst.
”Ah…” Teressa gasped, her brow furrowing.
”Is something wrong?” I asked.
I was more startled by her reaction than the change within myself. Her voice had hitched with an unexpected, stifled intensity.
”I’m fine,” Teressa replied, regaining her composure. “I was just surprised. The mana coming from you… it suddenly intensified.”
”I know. It just started flowing on its own,” I said.
Teressa smiled, tilting her head before meeting my gaze with her piercing blue eyes. “I see. In that case, let’s see if we can turn up the pressure.”
”Ready,” I said.
The mana from her right hand surged. The burst dam became a flood. The energy raced from my shoulder to my chest, my head, my abdomen, and my left shoulder. It didn’t stop there; the meridians expanded further, reaching into my back and down my legs—areas that had never felt the flow before. Soon, I was sending back even more mana than I took in.
It was a numbing, intoxicating sensation. I felt a strange, joyous sense of unity, as if our very beings were merging. Occasionally, I felt her grip tighten, and a sudden, violent impulse urged me to pour even more of myself into her.
”No… stop…” she whispered, her voice barely audible, like the faint hum of a mosquito.
I couldn’t help myself. The impulse was a physical weight. Our hands were locked in a desperate, sweaty grip. A tingling shiver climbed from the soles of my feet up my spine—a pleasure more intense than anything I had ever known.
”Larry,” she breathed.
”Teressa-sama,” I replied.
Our names were a shared prayer as the world around us dissolved into white.
Suddenly, a hazy memory from that other life forced its way into my mind.
”The 8:24 PM Special Rapid for Aboshi via Himeji is arriving at Platform 4. Twelve cars. For your safety, please stay behind the yellow braille blocks.”
The announcement coincided with the sharp chime of the departure bell. Across the way, the hiss of a compressor signaled the closing doors of the Nishi-Akashi Rapid. I was back at Sannomiya Station. The roar of the accelerating train and the screech of incoming brakes drowned out the city’s din. The headlights approached from the left. (I waited for the next one. I’ll definitely get a seat this time.)
The iron gate at the back entrance rattled, the metallic jangle snapping me back to reality. Teressa’s hands slipped away from mine. A crushing sense of loss washed over me, as if a vital part of my soul had just walked out the door.
Nika entered, carrying a tray of herb tea. “You two are soaked,” she said, setting the tray down.
”We were just practicing mana circulation,” Teressa said, her face still flushed. “Larry’s made incredible progress, so I wanted to see how much he could handle.”
”I wouldn’t know, since I don’t have a lick of talent,” Nika said, sticking her tongue out like a brat. “But you’re both red as beets. If anyone else saw you like this, they’d get the wrong idea.”
”Don’t be ridiculous,” Teressa said, scolding her with a tired smile.
”What idea?” I asked.
”You’re too young to understand,” Nika replied, acting like the bossy older sister despite being only a year my senior.
Nika had come to our house as Teressa-sama’s maid. She wasn’t a servant like Yutia; she was a free citizen, which technically made us equals. But she never missed an opportunity to lord her one-year age gap over me. She was a constant, irritating thorn in my side.
”Anyway, Teressa-sama, are the preparations finished?” Nika asked.
”Yes, for the most part. How about the guest rooms?”
”All set. I moved the luggage and scrubbed the floors, just like you asked.”
”Thank you, Nika.”
Nika looked away, clearly embarrassed by the praise. I figured she had been busy moving Teressa-sama and the baby out of the master bedroom so Uncle Klaus could have it.
”I still don’t get why Uncle Klaus is bringing his mistress,” Nika muttered. “He used to stay at the apothecary’s inn when he came alone.”
In the old days, when my father was still alive and the house was full, Uncle Klaus would stay with Granny Fels at her shop. Now that my sisters’ rooms were empty, Teressa-sama had moved out of the main suite to make room for him, while his attendants were bunking in the men’s quarters with me.
”It doesn’t matter,” Teressa said, dodging the question. “Grete-san is a highly skilled clerk. Her help will be invaluable.”
Teressa stood up, moving to her desk. She pulled out several small, transparent stones—amber⁶ for the magic lamps. “Larry, I have a favor. Could you charge these for me?”
”Me?”
We used to pay Granny Fels a silver coin for every two stones she charged. I used to fight my brothers for the errand because she’d always give us a cup of starch syrup as a treat.
”Amber with a ‘navel’ can hold a charge,” Teressa explained.
”Are there some that can’t?” Nika asked, leaning in.
”That’s right. See this white speck on the surface?” Teressa showed us a small, scab-like dot. Fine, hair-like lines radiated from the speck into the heart of the stone. “You flow the mana in through here.”
Nika tried first, pressing her finger against the dot and grunting with effort, but the stone remained dull. “Ugh, impossible.”
”Try it like the kumite,” Teressa suggested to me. “Balance the stone on your left palm and press down with your right index finger.”
I followed her instructions. As I channeled my mana, white lines unfurled from the ‘navel’ like a blooming thistle.
”Whoa,” Nika whispered, actually impressed.
”Once you’re used to it, you can do it with one hand,” Teressa said, demonstrating by pinching a stone between her fingers. “But be careful. If you overfill them, the amber will shatter.”
She was placing the stones into a leather pouch when Nika suddenly jumped, pressing her face against the window. “Teressa-sama! Uncle is here!”
”Oh, no—already?”
We scrambled to tidy the room before heading to the main house. We lined up at the entrance as the doors swung open. A thin, sour-faced man stepped inside—Uncle Klaus. Behind him was a portly man who looked strangely familiar, followed by an attendant and a small woman who had to be the mistress.
”Welcome, Uncle. We are honored by your visit,” Teressa said, bowing deeply. Nika and I followed suit.
”Where is Hans?” Klaus asked, his voice sharp with irritation.
”My sincerest apologies, Uncle,” Teressa said, bowing again without offering an excuse.
Klaus didn’t wait for more. He grunted and swept past us, heading straight for the Village Head Tower.
—
Summary:
Larry assists his sister-in-law, Teressa-sama, with administrative preparations for the upcoming Monthly Market. Amidst the paperwork, Larry struggles with his growing attraction to her and reflects on the tragic history of the village and their mutual friend Monica. The chapter concludes with Larry successfully demonstrating his progress in basic fire magic under Teressa’s tutelage.
Larry and Teressa-sama engage in an intense mana circulation exercise that triggers a vivid flashback to Larry’s past life in a Japanese train station. Their intimate moment is interrupted by Nika and the arrival of Uncle Klaus. The chapter ends with the arrival of Klaus’s party, including a mysterious familiar man and his mistress.
—
Trivia:
- The ‘Flesh Market’ name stems from a time when poverty forced parents to sell children to pay taxes.
- The world uses a 13-month calendar with 28 days per month.
- Monica Getys is already a widow with twins at the age of fifteen.
- Magic ‘Fireball’ progresses in power based on color: red-yellow to white.
- Teressa-sama was a ‘city girl’ who married into the rural Fee family.
- The term ‘navel’ refers to the specific charging point on mana amber.
- Overcharging amber results in the stone shattering.
- Sannomiya Station is a real-world location in Kobe, Japan.
- Uncle Klaus normally stays at an apothecary’s inn, but is now taking the master bedroom.
- Teressa-sama was once a ‘city girl’ with ringlets and frilled dresses
—
Character Insight:
Larry’s internal conflict between his ‘modern’ memories (Idols, DT) and his medieval reality is intensifying. Teressa-sama is showing resilience, using her duties as deputy village head to cope with the loss of her husband, Iffens.
Larry’s attraction to Teressa-sama is reaching a boiling point, manifesting as magical ‘impulses.’ Nika’s rivalry with Larry stems from their similar social standing and her one-year age advantage.
—
Lore And Worldbuilding Context:
The ‘Flesh Market’ history adds a dark, realistic layer to the world-building, suggesting the Fee family’s history as village heads hasn’t always been easy.
The author uses the contrast between the ‘sweaty, red-faced’ magic training and Nika’s ‘wrong idea’ to highlight the growing romantic tension.
—
Glossary:
Notes:
• Nika – A fourteen-year-old personal maid to Teressa. Freckled, has wavy bronze hair, flat chest, and prone to mocking Larry. Lady’s maid and cousin to Terese. Educated free person with a prickly personality. Terese’s lady’s maid and cousin. Known for being sharp-tongued toward Larry.
• Hans – Second son of the Fee family, known as Mad Dog of Strock Village, a rugged, violent delinquent and chronic alcoholic with a history of assault, extortion and other crimes.
• Iffens – The deceased eldest son of Fee family.
• Teressa – The widow of Iffens and Larry’s sister-in-law. Currently serving as the deputy village head. Larry’s sister-in-law and widow of the deceased eldest brother. She has an infant daughter. Has blonde short hair and big chests, and big sister/motherly aura. Wears a wool jacket over her blouse, which its button almost split.
• Klaus – Larry’s maternal uncle, head of the Thalbach family and a vassal to Viscount Bizan. He dislikes Larry and Hans. He is described as a thin, grumpy-looking man, wears a light grey cloak and a black hat with gold ornaments signifying his rank in a Viscount’s house.
• Larry – Thirteen‑year‑old third son of the Strock headman, with reddish‑white skin, bronze eyes and curly bronze hair, holds faint Showa‑era memories and minor fire magic. He hides a crush on his sister‑in‑law, does chores despite quasi‑noble status, and is also the third son of the Fee family.
• Maria – The three-month-old second daughter of Ifens and Therese.
• Lyrica – A toddler under three years old with an innocent but devastatingly honest way of speaking. She repeats scandalous things she hears adults say.
• Monica – Larry’s childhood friend who became a widow at fifteen after her husband died in the same war as Ifence. She has twins and is currently helping care for Maria (his infant niece). Tomboyish.
• Yutia – Maid with a muscular abnormality and hunched back; former lady’s maid to Teressa.
• Soi – An old professor from Ajire seminary, the first to raise a question. Looks like wizardly.
• Tim – A 14‑year‑old village youth, the eldest son of the Dvorak family, has just ‘graduated’ into adulthood. With short dark hair, a lean build and thoughtful eyes, he recently traveled to the riverside town of Obernbach accompanied by his father.
• Fels – The inn owner where Larry’s uncle stay. An elf.
• Grete – Uncle Klaus’s mistress. She is a small woman with high administrative abilities.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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