Volume 1 Chapter 21 The Banquet
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
The plaza was alive with the roar of several bonfires, and the festival atmosphere sent my adrenaline spiking. They had rigged up makeshift stoves by taking the iron-barred doors from the Village Head Tower’s dungeon and laying them over glowing charcoal like oversized BBQ grates. As the heat rose, a swarm of brats surrounded the grills, chanting for meat like a pack of starving wolves.
Nico stood tall on a central wooden stage, looking surprisingly gallant as she gripped her violin. Beside her stood Schultz-san¹ the brewer, holding a hand-drum that looked like a tambourine without the jingles. Malik-san the brewer, Tim’s old man, manned a long-bodied drum, while the slightly plump Jutte-san from the old lady’s place and the Pastor held small flutes. Daniel-san, the village blacksmith, rounded out the band with a rugged, guitar-like instrument.
Then the eccentric Pastor, Dominique Dietrich, climbed onto the stage.
”Now then, let us begin the music!” he cried.
A melody that every soul in this village knew by heart began to swell. This was the cue for our group and the newlyweds, Al and Mary, to make our grand entrance onto the stage.
Instead, at the sound of the Pastor’s voice, the BBQ-tender Tim seemed to lose his mind. He dumped the entire supply of meat onto the iron grates all at once. The crowd instantly transformed into a tidal wave, surging toward the BBQ stand in a desperate frenzy. Fresh meat was a rare luxury here, and men, women, and children alike scrambled over one another to get a piece of the action.
”Well, that’s a total disaster,” said Bours.
Just as Bours noted, the Pastor was screaming about safety and how it was too early to eat, but no one was listening.
”If we just stand here, there’s going to be an accident,” Ed observed.
”No choice, then,” I replied.
Agreeing with Ed, we—who had been cooling our heels in the shadow of the Village Head Tower—headed out to organize the chaos. A few other adults were trying to manage the swarm, but they looked like they were ready to throw in the towel.
As we arrived, Al joined the fray. He started grabbing people from behind and peeling them away from the grill like bark from a tree to clear a path to the iron plate.
”Tim, throw the vegetables in!” Bours barked.
Once the greens hit the heat, the initial frenzy died down just enough for the crowd to breathe.
”Back off, you runts! Today is supposed to be about us!” Ed shouted, shoving aside a kid who tried to wedge his way back to the front.
”So what? We never get to eat this! Let us eat!” the kid yelled.
”What was that? You want a taste of pain instead, punk?” Ed growled.
He was acting like a total delinquent toward the kids. Eventually, the massive, red-headed Al tossed a few of the rowdier ones aside, and even Hans-niisan’s thug-like hangers-on started helping with crowd control. Somehow, the madness finally simmered down.
”Now then, drinks for everyone!” the Pastor shouted, finally making himself heard as he mopped his brow with a flamboyant handkerchief. The housemaids joined in, weaving through the crowd to fill everyone’s personal mugs with ale and apple cider.
”A toast—”
”Hold your horses! That’s the Acting Village Head’s job!” someone called out.
The clumsy moderator stepped back as Sister-in-law took the stage. She introduced the newlyweds, Al and Mary, then the four of us heading to the front, and finally announced that the toast was for my coming-of-age ceremony². We all raised our mugs and drank.
”Teressa-san really has her act together,” Celt noted with admiration. “It’s hard to believe she’s still in her teens.”
”Well, she is a Quasi-noble³,” Sheeta added from my side. “She’s had to be tough at that age.”
I could hear a strange mix of resentment and awe in Sheeta’s voice—likely a hangover from whatever drama went down last night.
”At least Larry can manage even if he becomes Village Head,” Ed said, offering a thought that was both complicated and encouraging.
”Hmph. Ed’s only saying that because he’s got money riding on Teressa,” Sheeta shot back.
Apparently, the bet on who my partner for the Rite of Passage⁴ would be was still very much alive.
”What’s the current status of the pool?” Celt asked.
It seemed Sister-in-law and Emma-chan were the two heavy favorites. (If I didn’t have to consider Larry’s actual feelings, I’d want to pick Emma-chan just to kick the ‘Village Head’ inheritance can further down the road.)
On stage, Nico’s violin took the lead, playing something that felt like upbeat background music. The meat-panic had finally ended, and with food in our hands, I felt like I could finally breathe.
”Wait a second, Ed… you didn’t happen to ‘reserve’ Emma for yourself, did you?” Sheeta said, glaring at him.
”She turned me down,” Ed grumbled. “If I’d secured that girl, Teressa would’ve been a lock for the bet.”
”Hmph. Well, I’m just glad the bet’s still on. If I lost my husband’s money on this, he’d never let me hear the end of it.”
(That’s your own fault, Sheeta, for making Bours the bookie without telling him.) Just then, the lady of the hour, Emma-chan, wandered over with a pitcher of cider.
”Larry-san, care for a refill?” she asked.
(Wait, she actually remembered my name? Score.)
Up close, her tunic barely contained her. The ‘side-boob’ situation was legendary. As she leaned in, her flawless skin and the curve of her chest were inches from my face. My heart and soul felt like they were melting.
However, I felt a chill. I looked over to see Granny Ferris staring daggers at me.
”Uh, I think I’ve had a bit too much already,” I lied.
Naturally, I was bluffing, but Edmond-san jumped in to take my share. Two minutes later, he was out cold on the ground.
(That was a close one. That drink was definitely drugged.)
”Larry.”
Suddenly, arms wrapped around me from behind. It was Monica. Even in the dark, I could tell she was wasted; she smelled like sour booze and desperation.
”Traitor,” she whispered into my ear. I hadn’t actually betrayed her, but try telling a drunk that. “Embarrassing me like that… even though we grew up together…”
She nipped my earlobe with her lips. (Damn, she knows my weak spots.)
”Stop it, Monica,” I said.
Her hands started wandering south from my stomach, but before she could make contact, a ‘voice from heaven’ intervened. Monica was ripped away from me, and Sister-in-law took her place, clinging to my arm.
(Okay, wow. I can definitely feel her against me. They might have stiff bras in this world, but that mellow pressure on my arm is very real.)
”What’s your problem?” Monica snapped. “We’re old friends! You could lend him to me for just one night!”
”Absolutely not,” Sister-in-law replied. “Not tonight.”
(Wait, so any night other than tonight is okay? Whaaaat?!)
”Teressa… are you serious?” I asked.
”I don’t mind,” Sister-in-law said, tightening her grip on my arm. “As long as Larry is okay with it.”
Sister-in-law leaned in closer. “Larry, you heard her, right?”
(So I’m being rented out? Well, I mean, being with various women sounds like a dream, but… Monica, you shouldn’t smile while you’re missing teeth. It’s a little creepy.)
Crap, I’d forgotten about Larry. He’s such a straight-laced kid; he’d probably be horrified by all this. But he was still locked away deep in his own head, leaving me at the helm. If this banquet ended and we went home to a ‘situation’… well, I’m not about to turn down a meal that’s been served. I’m not a martyr.
(Is that okay with you, host Larry?) I tried calling out to him, but there was no response.
”Alright! Time for the volunteers to play! If you’re dancing, get to the center of the plaza!” the Pastor shouted, appearing out of thin air.
”Come on, let’s dance,” Sister-in-law said, dragging me toward the clearing and leaving a pouting Monica behind.
Nico tucked the violin under his chin, the other musicians watching him for the cue. He caught the beat with his whole body and drew the bow across the strings. The tune was a classic folk song—half square dance, half ballroom.
More and more people joined in, the crowd rhythmically clapping along. It wasn’t a coordinated circle dance; it was a contact sport. You were expected to bump into people.
To one side, Al and Mary were dancing, though the height difference made them look like a comedy act. On the other side were the Bours couple; at the edge were Egil and Herta, and even the other servants were out there. If Ed weren’t unconscious, he’d probably be hitting on Emma-chan right now.
”You’ve improved,” Sister-in-law whispered.
We had danced once before when she first arrived, but between the plague and the general lack of festivals, it had been four years. I must have been a disaster back then.
”You’ve become very beautiful, Sister-in-law,” I said.
In Larry’s memories, she’d been a blonde ojou-sama with her hair in long, elegant ringlets—beautiful but a bit childish. Now, with her hair cut shorter and a mature air about her, she was a total knockout.
”Oh? Look at you, learning how to give social compliments,” she teased.
(Well, I am an old man on the inside. Being in a fourteen-year-old’s body is like a superpower; I can say whatever I want without it being ‘creepy’ yet.)
The music shifted to an up-tempo beat. The dancing got wilder and the collisions harder, but that was part of the fun. This was the song I’d first danced to with Monica years ago. Now, she was just a blur in the distance, drinking with the maids.
”Ow! Larry-niichan, watch where you’re going!”
I’d bumped into one of the local brats who was dancing with another kid. Usually, I’d have argued, but I was a ‘man’ now. I just gave the kid a quick thumping on the head and kept moving.
”Be nice,” Sister-in-law said.
(Whatever. That kid called me a virgin-bastard earlier. He deserved it.)
When the fast song ended, the crowd thinned out. Most people were heading back for more ale, but Sister-in-law didn’t let go. The music slowed down into a low, heavy ballad—the medieval version of a slow grind. I put my hand on her waist and pulled her close, swaying to the rhythm until I could feel her breath on my skin.
”Is this Larry’s first time?” she whispered.
”Yeah… yes,” I replied.
”But you’re good at it.”
I fought to keep a straight face as Sister-in-law pressed her body against mine. The heat, the scent of a woman mixed with sweat, and the lingering buzz of the alcohol were a lethal combination. My nose brushed against a stray lock of her hair. We were so close it was practically foreplay.
(Larry, stay asleep, buddy. I’m taking over for the night.)
The slow dance ended, and the banquet hit a lull. People drifted back to the BBQ grates for seconds.
”And now! A few words from our guests of honor!”
(Wait, what? Nobody told me about a speech.) I looked over at Ed, but he was still a snoring heap on the ground.
”First up, Bours Debritz-san!”
Bours looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole. He shuffled up, face bright red. “Uh… I’m Bours. I’m heading out to the front tomorrow. That’s it.”
”Is that all, you coward?!” someone yelled from the crowd.
”Shut up! You got a problem with that? I’m done!” Bours barked, stomping off the stage.
Celt-san went next, but he looked like he was about to faint from stage fright.
”Since Edmond Eisner-san is currently… incapacitated… we’ll move on to Larry Fee-kun!”
(Why am I ‘kun’ all of a sudden?) I panicked for a second, thinking about just repeating what Bours said. But then my old middle-manager instincts kicked in. If there’s one thing I can do, it’s give a soul-sucking corporate speech.
(Step aside, kids. Professional at work.)
”I have been introduced. I am Larry Fee. I wish to offer my sincerest thanks for the celebration of my coming-of-age ceremony¹ today. It is truly an honor to have such a grand send-off for my departure to the front lines…”
(No, that’s just not going to work. I have to retool this in my head to fit ‘Larry.’)
”I’m Larry Fee. Thanks for the coming-of-age celebration and the feast today. Tomorrow is my first time on a real battlefield, but my militia drilling² has been tough, so I’m not worried. When I get back, I’ll work hard as a member of the Village Head’s family. Thank you for having me.”
It was actually a pretty good save.
Despite that, the crowd was dead. No applause. No cheers. A heavy, suffocating silence descended over the square.
Then, the murmuring started.
”What was that just now?” “That’s not how a kid talks, is it?” “Is he trying to act like some high-and-mighty scholar?”
I didn’t hear a single positive word.
Bours-san and Celt-san both looked like they were swallowing something bitter.
(Damn it. If it was going to be like this, I should’ve just gone with the ‘middle-management’ version and really leaned into the corporate-speak.)
”Ah—thank you, Larry. Now, to wrap things up, Alberto Kessler-sama, please give us your marriage report.”
The Pastor was practically shoving Al and the others into the spotlight, moving with the frantic energy of a man trying to sweep a fresh mess under the rug.
(What gives? I wrapped that up perfectly. Sure, for a fourteen-year-old, the greeting might have been a bit too mature, but it wasn’t bad, right?)
I looked around for someone who might understand, but no one would meet my eyes. Monica, on the other hand, was doubled over, clutching her sides and rolling around in a fit of laughter.
While I was reeling, Al finished his greeting with a blunt, “I got married, deal with it,” and the crowd immediately surged toward the food and booze.
”I had no idea you had such a talent for public speaking, Larry. I was quite surprised,” said Sister-in-law.
She stepped down from the dais. I couldn’t tell if she was being serious or just taking a dig at me, but at least she was talking to me.
”Was it really that strange?” I asked.
She gave me a wry look. She explained that while that kind of greeting was how a properly educated person spoke, the fact that it came from Larry—a boy who had never left the village—made it less ‘impressive’ and more ‘uncanny.’
Just then, Herta brought over a skewer of grilled meat.
”Thanks,” I said.
”You did great, Young Master,” said Herta.
(I don’t need that kind of pity, thanks.)
”Nico, come here,” called Sister-in-law.
The music had stopped, and the other musicians were putting their instruments away, but Nico remained standing there, clutching hers.
”Let’s trade. Let me play for a while,” said Sister-in-law.
She took the violin from Nico and gave me a dazzling, mischievous smile.
”Now, you’re going to dance with Nico. Got it?”
It was the kind of smile that didn’t allow for any answer other than “Yes.”
”Nico, make sure you let him lead you properly,” said Sister-in-law.
For a moment, Nico flashed a smile at her that looked like a flower blooming. But as Sister-in-law climbed onto the stage, Nico’s head dropped, her gaze fixed on her shoes.
”Nico-san, here’s a drink and some meat,” said Herta.
Nico took the skewer and the mug of ale. She must have been parched, because she downed the ale in one long, rhythmic go. As Sister-in-law began practicing on stage, the other musicians—holding their own food and drinks—started drifting back toward the platform.
”Herta, where’s Yutia?”
Usually, the people from the same house stuck together. Nico, Herta, Egil, and the other servants were all loitering around, but Yutia was nowhere to be seen.
”That girl can’t really manage eating and drinking with both hands full like this, so she’s over by the Village Head Tower³,” said Herta.
Right. It was the same way during the festival. I looked over and saw her tucked away, quietly eating meat from a plate.
”Should I go get her?” asked Herta.
”No, it’s fine. I’d feel bad bothering her while she’s eating,” I said.
”Young Master, it’s starting,” said Herta.
Sister-in-law’s leading notes filled the air, and the other musicians began to match her tempo. I set my wooden plate and mug down at the edge of the stage and reached a hand out to Nico.
She panicked for a second, frantically setting her own things down next to mine.
(Larry’s original feelings for her are a bit of a mystery to me, but I don’t mind Nico’s clumsy way of showing affection. Maybe it’s because I’m an old man at heart, but I find her innocence actually quite refreshing.)
I reached out my hand again.
Her eyes went wide. She quickly patted her palms against her skirt to dry them, then placed her hand elegantly on mine. Her palm was a little damp.
(Sister-in-law’s hands are always damp and cold, too. I don’t really have a frame of reference; the women in my old world weren’t exactly big on sparring matches or being escorted to dances.)
I led Nico to the middle of the square. We let go, stepped back, and performed the traditional formal bow.
The music was ramping up. I held my hands out, palms up, and Nico rested her fingertips on them. My heart rate was starting to climb.
”Larry is—”
Nico started to say something, but the music exploded. It was a fast, driving, up-tempo track. The steps were frantic; I had to focus everything just to keep from tripping over my own feet.
Nico, however, was moving like water. She looked at me with a gaze that felt just a little bit smug.
(Hey, give me a break. This is an old man in a borrowed body doing his best.)
As if to spite me, she widened her stride, forcing me to move even faster. If I slipped once, I was a goner. I held onto her for dear life.
”You did it! Phew, that was so much fun,” said Nico.
The song ended, and she actually had the nerve to sound cheerful about it.
”I didn’t ‘do it.’ I thought I was going to break my neck,” I said.
”But you didn’t stop. You pass,” said Nico.
”Pass what?” I asked.
”I’m going to be your wife,” said Nico.
For a heartbeat, the words didn’t register. Then she hugged me, and my brain finally caught up.
(Whoa, hold on. This is a bit too abrupt.)
Suddenly getting a ‘reverse proposal’ from a fifteen-year-old girl… well, I guess Larry is technically younger than her. Nico smiled as if a weight had been lifted from her soul, let go of me, and met my eyes.
”I’m not going to hesitate anymore,” said Nico.
”Is ‘being able to dance’ really a good enough reason for that?” I asked.
”Anything would have served as a reason,” said Nico.
The next song started. We took each other’s hands again, a beat behind the rest of the couples. It was a slower rhythm, one that actually allowed for a conversation.
”I always thought you were so in love with Teressa-sama that there was no room for someone like me,” said Nico.
(Yeah, if it were the ‘real’ Larry, she’d be right. He always treated Nico like a nagging little sister-in-law.)
”I’ve loved you for a long time, Larry,” said Nico.
I knew that. I think even Larry had a vague inkling.
”Are you sure about this? It’s not even a lock that I’ll be the next Village Head,” I said.
”That doesn’t matter. I’ll follow you no matter what happens,” said Nico.
(Okay, that’s bordering on ‘obsessive stalker’ territory, but I’ll take it.)
”But, uh, what about… you know?” I asked.
”What?” asked Nico.
”Me and my Sister-in-law. That… situation,” I said.
”I’ve spent years listening to Teressa-sama and Iffens-sama’s private time through the bamboo blinds, Larry,” said Nico.
I nearly tripped and crushed her toes.
It’s true—the bed for Sister-in-law and her husband is only separated from the bed where Nico and the two nieces sleep by a thin curtain. Before the kids came along… yeah, you’d hear everything. But wait—if I become the Village Head and we’re in that same room… is she really okay with her “loved one” doing that with another woman right next to her?
”I even had the job of reporting back on their activities. So I’m used to it. I’m not possessive like Camilla-sama,” said Nico.
(Holy hell. Reporting on the marriage bed?)
I guess in this world, marriage is about bloodlines and babies. If the wife can’t conceive, the lady-in-waiting steps in. That’s intense. And she just accepts it.
Camilla-sama is Uncle Klaus’s wife—the sister of the current Viscount’s wife. A real noble. Does that mean Aunt Camilla and that sour-faced uncle of mine were being ‘monitored’ too? The thought is almost hilarious, but since she popped out two boys, I guess she did her job. I don’t know how the ‘check-ins’ went after that, but my uncle apparently managed to knock up a mistress behind his possessive wife’s back, and now he’s trying to hide her in this village before he gets caught.
But is Nico really not the possessive type? I have a feeling the ‘original’ Larry is going to have his hands full.
”Larry, can I ask you one thing?” asked Nico.
”Sure,” I said.
”Do you… do you like Yutia?” asked Nico.
And there it is.
I don’t mind Nico’s bluntness, but if she’s looking to push Yutia out, I can’t get on board with that. And neither would Larry.
”Maybe I do. Part of why I wanted to go to the magic academy—to the medical track—was because I wanted to find a way to fix her disability,” I said.
”I see. I understand. In that case… I’ll go get a lock of her hair later,” said Nico.
”Wait, what?” I asked.
”It’s for your charm. Teressa-sama, me, and Yutia—the three of us will protect you, no matter what,” said Nico.
(Damn. That actually tugs at the heartstrings a bit. Even if it sounds like a massive ‘Death Flag’⁴.)
The music was winding down. At this rate, we were about to hit the “cheek-to-cheek” portion of the evening. Given the mood, there was no way out of it. Nico is fifteen—basically a high schooler—and she’s cute. And here I am, a forty-something dude in my head, about to slow-dance with her. In my old world, people would be calling the cops. But here? I’m the main character. I feel a twinge of guilt toward Larry, but my pulse is definitely racing.
But then—
”LARRY! ARE YOU THERE!?”
A voice boomed across the square, loud enough to drown out the final notes of the orchestra.
It was Hans-niisan.
—
Summary:
The village holds a chaotic farewell banquet for those departing for the front lines. Larry navigates the social minefield of drugged drinks, aggressive childhood friends, and his alluring Sister-in-law. The night ends with a provocative dance that leaves Larry ready to seize the night.
Larry fails to navigate his social debut effectively due to his over-polished speech, leading to an awkward atmosphere. Nico uses the subsequent celebration to confess her feelings and propose to Larry, revealing dark household secrets about ‘reporting’ duties. The intimate moment is shattered by the loud return of Larry’s brother, Hans.
—
Trivia:
- The BBQ grill is literally a dungeon door.
- There is a betting pool revolving around who will be Larry’s partner for his Rite of Passage.
- Emma-chan likely drugged Edmond to get to Larry.
- Monica is missing teeth, which Larry finds ‘creepy’.
- The ‘Sister-in-law’ is an Acting Village Head and a Quasi-noble.
- Larry is actually 14 but speaks with a 40-year-old’s vocabulary.
- Nico is 15, making her Larry’s senior.
- The Village Head’s house is functionally a surveillance state regarding marital acts.
- Camilla-sama is of noble birth, unlike the local villagers.
- Yutia has a disability that prevents her from holding food while standing/moving
—
Character Insight:
Larry is fully embracing his ‘middle manager’ persona to navigate the broken morals of this world, showing he’s willing to ignore ‘host Larry’s’ hesitation if it means getting ‘served’.
Nico moves from a passive observer to a proactive partner, showing a willingness to accept a non-exclusive marriage for the sake of the household. Larry displays ‘old man’ anxiety when faced with youthful romantic attention.
—
Lore And Worldbuilding Context:
The ‘hage-chichi’ (side-boob) and ‘cheek time’ (slow dancing) elements highlight the Seinen-leaning nature of the world’s ‘broken morals’.
The author notes describe Larry’s current social detachment as ‘Autism mode,’ highlighting the friction between his mental age and his physical environment.
—
Glossary:
Notes:
• Daniel – White‑haired dwarf blacksmith with a thick mane, living opposite Granny Ferris; serves as the village blacksmith, council member, and promotes physical grip in mana flow.
• Pastor – An exiled clergyman from Besanburg assigned to the frontier.
• Nico – A silver-haired young woman, once head servant and now Teressa’s stern yet protective lady’s maid, lives with Larry’s family as a sister-in-law figure—bluntly scolding Larry while quietly supporting neighbors. A childhood acquaintance with high social grace, she avoids chores by cleaning gear, once met Camilla, and is deeply affected by being called “the hole” in gambling contexts. Once a diligent rule-bound servant under her elderly manservant mentor in faded livery, she now carries a subdued air after recent events, yet still plays violin gallantly on stage, blending quiet duty with hidden artistry.
• 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.
• Dominique – Pastor Dominique Dietrich, tall and flamboyant in bright robes, shouts loudly and runs the church like a master of ceremonies. Young and lazy, he tries to backdate tax forms, yet his eccentric charm keeps the congregation oddly devoted.
• Mary – Edmond’s younger sister, now radiant and confident in her transformed look, serves as Albert’s fiancée and Al’s bride, daughter of Jason.
• Al – Full name Alberto. A massive, red-haired man recently married to Mary. A young man who has just completed his wedding ceremony in the village.
• Bours – Tall, scarred, in a faded Royal Army uniform, he is a former captain turned militia instructor, stern and short‑tempered, training village youth with archer precision, tactical Heal magic, orc‑hunting skill and wilderness survival. Married to Sheeta‑san, father of a son in the Imperial border division, heading for conscription.
• Ed – A lanky village youth in simple farmer’s garb, Larry’s close friend, soon to be conscripted, fiercely protective of Larry’s interests.
• Hans – Rugged, wild‑eyed delinquent dubbed the ‘Mad Dog’ of Strock Village, Larry is the second son of the Fee family, a chronic alcoholic with assault and extortion convictions. As the older brother and heir to the Kessler estate, he abandons his duties, and his sudden return crashes the ceremony.
• Teressa – Larry’s eldest sister‑in‑law, widow of former Village Head Iffens, now Village Head herself. Married at fifteen, mother of Lyrica and Maria. Blonde short hair, big‑chested, motherly aura, wool jacket over blouse with a button almost split. Sharp, mischievous, big‑sisterly manager of household and village reports; reacts with physical shock to Lyrica’s revelations. Air‑headed yet hides a sharp, terrifying edge; a quasi‑noble with an alluring, keen mind.
• Celt – Modestly dressed tenant farmer in simple work clothes, level‑headed and cautious, militia member who questions war’s civilian toll, seeks tax relief to buy land; skilled sandal‑maker, observant, translates Bours’s jargon, and as banquet observer admires Teressa‑san’s competence.
• Sheeta – A petite, dark‑haired village woman, ten years older than Monica, is Bours‑san’s young wife. She teases playfully, serves as the pragmatic bookie for Larry’s Rite of Passage betting pool, and secretly involves her husband in the wagers.
• Larry – Fourteen‑year‑old third son of the Strock headman, with reddish‑white skin, bronze eyes and curly bronze hair, now hosts a 40‑year‑old former middle manager’s consciousness. He carries faint Showa memories, minor fire magic, medical/scientific know‑how, and a backup‑heir mindset. He hides his talent, does chores, feels dread, silently admires his sister‑in‑law, and faces conscription, militia training, and a path to magic school as he trains to become Village Head.
• Emma – A village girl with large black eyes, a cold, sorrowful expression, black hair in a bun, and a three‑colored crest on her forehead; she works at the inn serving Ferris‑san, stays with her, witnessed a healing session and is a candidate for Larry’s rite, while also noted for a legendary side‑boob presence and suspected of drugging Edmond.
• Ferris – Granny, an ageless elf who looks like a 30‑year‑old but is over 200 years old, runs a village pharmacy with deep magic and elf‑style healing. She claims to have known Larry’s grandfather, is blunt and unfiltered, and is the elderly woman Martin hopes to marry.
• Edmond – Second son of a farm, tall and lanky, wiry and restless, he arrives late to the academy, lacking discipline until Bours‑san’s harsh lesson on punctuality. Militiaman from Mauer Village, Mary’s brother, teases Martin and Larry, and mocks manual labor while plotting the village celebrations.
• Monica – Sun‑tanned, tomboyish Larry’s childhood friend, now a widow and mother of twins, she raises her kids while caring for infant niece Maria. Missing teeth and bitter about Larry’s neglect, she embodies how war’s danger touches even non‑combat villagers.
• Herta – Head maid of the Village Head’s household, a slightly plump, voluptuous woman with a large chest, respected by staff and close to the family. She shares a secret affair with Egil and cares for Larry as a family member.
• Egil – Tall, dark‑skinned head manservant with a shaved head, the household’s chief attendant. He commands respect, maintains close ties with the family and staff, and acknowledges Larry’s transition to Young Master.
• Alberto – Eldest Kessler son, over 210 cm tall, massive red‑haired former delinquent now elder on the temporary Elders’ Council. He questions Larry’s future as Village Head and is engaged to Mary.
• Yutia – A hunched, muscularly abnormal servant girl with a severe speech impediment and lingering effects from a near-fatal fever, once lady’s maid to Teressa, now feels emotional distance growing as Larry’s status rises—yet remains exceptionally dexterous, quietly serving Larry’s household with unwavering loyalty despite her isolation.
• Iffens – Eldest son of the Fee family, village head of Strock Village and older brother to Larry, he fell in battle. Remembered as a solemn, battle‑scarred figure, his death casts a heavy emotional shadow over the household and fuels Yutia’s fear.
• 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.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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