"Please, wait," the boy said the moment we arrived at the cliffside.
As far as I could tell, there was nothing unusual about the area. I had expected him to bring out more prey, but that wasn't his intent. Stepping toward the rock face, the boy held his hand against the stone and invoked "Break Rock." A section of the cliff crumbled as if dissolving, revealing a hidden cave.
"Inside... please."
So this cave was what he called "home." It certainly appeared sturdy enough to withstand the local wildlife or even monsters. Once we were safely inside, the boy began casting barrier magic at the entrance. It was clear this would be a more than adequate place to rest.
Barrier magic is incredibly useful, but it is notoriously difficult to master. Camille, who had been watching the boy’s work with the same curiosity I felt, decided to speak up.
"Is that barrier magic? You use some rare spells. Is the effect concealment?"
"Can escape anytime... the five of you, safe."
"I see. Thank you..."
The boy gave a short nod and a brief answer before slipping past us with his small frame to head deeper into the cave.
"It seems he’s concerned for our safety," I remarked.
"So it would seem, Lord Reinhardt," Camille replied.
"The lad’s moving on without us, my lords," Zeff called out.
"Right. We're coming."
Following Zeff further into the cave, we found a room where the floor and walls had been meticulously leveled. The space was furnished with simple items made of stone and wood, and magic light stones embedded in the walls provided plenty of illumination.
"This is..."
"A much more substantial home than I expected," Jill noted.
"Over here. For the injured... lie down."
"My thanks. Hughes, you can rest here. Stay with us," I said, helping him.
"O-Oh..." Hughes groaned.
"Potions... coming."
We watched the boy disappear down a passage on the far side of the room after ensuring Hughes was settled on the bed.
"Phew. We can finally catch our breath," I said.
"Yes. This place is more solid than I anticipated. Hughes should be able to recover here."
"We owe that boy a great debt."
"..."
I noticed Zeff, having set Hughes down, scanning the room with a sharp, calculating gaze. Among my guards, Zeff is the expert on scouting and traps. If he was wearing such a grim expression, something was wrong.
"Zeff, did you find something?"
"Doesn't this room strike you as odd, my lord? I don't mean traps. There are clear signs of long-term habitation here, yet there’s only enough furniture for one person."
While it wouldn't be strange for a temporary campsite to be sparse, a closer look revealed maps of the forest and sketches of animals drawn directly onto the walls. A musical instrument leaned against one corner. Despite its simplicity, the room had the distinct atmosphere of a child’s living space. And as Zeff pointed out, there was only one set of furniture. It was indeed peculiar.
"Is that boy living here all by himself?"
"Surely not," Camille argued. "I was shocked enough that he can use taming magic, barrier magic, and earth magic at his age, but surviving alone in a forest like this is impossible. There must be someone else further back."
"Or perhaps he isn't as young as he looks," Jill added. "He didn't look like an elf, but still..."
As we debated, the boy returned with his slimes, which were carrying a large quantity of potion bottles.
"Potions."
"Thank you. We will certainly find a way to repay you for this," I told him.
"No... I can make them. As many as needed."
At his words, we all froze, looking back and forth between the potions and the boy. Camille was the first to find his voice.
"You made these yourself!?"
The boy flinched at the volume, but he gave a quick, silent nod. Camille might be excitable, but he was right to be shocked—the quality of these potions was indistinguishable from those sold in high-end city shops. This child was becoming more of a mystery by the minute.
"Water."
While I was lost in thought, the boy offered us stone vessels filled with water. Ice—clearly magical in origin—floated inside, chilling the drink perfectly.
"Thank you."
"Much appreciated."
"Grateful for it."
"Thanks, kid."
"...That's right," the boy murmured.
"Hm? Is something the matter?"
"My name... is Ryoma."
I realized then that we had yet to introduce ourselves.
"So Ryoma is your name. Forgive my lack of manners. I am Reinhardt Jamil, the lord of the Jamil Duchy. Thank you for coming to my subordinate's aid."
"A du—!? My apologies!"
I had tried to keep my voice gentle so as not to frighten him, but the moment I gave my title, Ryoma’s face went rigid. He doubled over in a deep bow. I was struck by how refined and practiced the movement was, despite his awkward speech.
"No, no, please, there is no need for such formality. You are our benefactor. You don't need to change how you speak with me."
Judging by his reaction, he truly had no idea he was speaking to a Duke. I urged him to look up, but he seemed at a loss for words, looking quite troubled. I didn't find his previous conduct rude at all, but he seemed worried.
Camille and the others, sensing his anxiety, stepped in.
"Hey there, I'm Camille. I'm a mage serving as Lord Reinhardt's guard. It’s nice to meet you, and thanks again for earlier. I’d tapped out my mana and couldn't use healing magic. If you hadn't shown up, I don't know what would have happened to Hughes... that’s the name of the guy over there. Also, don't worry about how you talk. Lord Reinhardt isn't the type to get angry over small things."
"He keeps guys like us around, after all," Zeff added with a grin. "I'm Zeff, the scout. Nice to meet ya, lad. And this here is..."
"I am Jill," the armored man said. "I apologize for baring my blade at you earlier."
"No... Caution, only natural."
"I'm glad you understand," Jill replied. "I'm a noble as well, and while I was on guard, I wasn't offended by your manner. Lord Reinhardt is exceptionally tolerant. Just be yourself."
"...Thank you."
After Camille, Zeff, and even the normally stern Jill spoke to him kindly, the boy seemed to relax, if only a little. His speech was still stilted and strange, but I saw no reason to press him on it.
"You’ve given us medicine and a place to rest. We're the ones who should be thanking you," I said.
"No problem. But... why?"
He likely wanted to know how we ended up here or why we were so deep in the forest. I decided to explain the situation.
"We were traveling toward my home in the Town of Gaunago. We were taking a detour around the edge of the forest on horseback when we were ambushed by bandits."
"Done in... by bandits?"
"No, there were many of them, but they weren't particularly skilled. We were traveling with a light escort due to an urgent matter, so they likely thought they could overwhelm us with numbers. The one who actually injured Hughes was a Black Bear that wandered out of the woods during the skirmish."
"Hughes was just unlucky. It caught him in the middle of a duel," Zeff explained.
"We killed it, but our horses bolted," Camille added. "Hughes’s wound was worse than it looked, so we needed to get him to town immediately. That’s why we abandoned the detour and decided to cut straight through the forest."
Ryoma nodded as if he finally understood. Taking the opportunity, I decided to ask a few questions of my own.
"But why are you here, Ryoma? You mentioned hunting, but there are signs you've lived here for quite some time. I must say, I'm impressed a boy of your age can hunt, master several types of magic, and even brew potions."
"Learned from... grandparents. Former... adventurers."
I see. Grandparents who were former adventurers.
"Are the two of them out right now?"
The boy looked down at the floor, his eyes dimming.
"Passed away."
"I see... I'm sorry to hear that."
"It's fine. Three years... ago."
"""Three years!?"""
"Kid, how long have you been out here?" Zeff blurted out.
"Left the village... three years ago. I was... an outsider. Hated."
An exclusive village? It was a sad, but common story. Some rural areas could be incredibly cruel to outsiders.
"Before they died... they said. Go to another city."
He went on to explain that he disliked dealing with people and had survived using the skills his grandparents taught him. He eventually found this forest and made it his home, never leaving it once in three years. If he hadn't spoken to a soul in all that time, his social isolation was near total.
He had been self-conscious about his speech, but I recalled hearing that prisoners held in solitary confinement for long periods often lost their ability to communicate effectively. His laconic nature was likely a symptom of his isolation.
"I understand your circumstances. However, I cannot recommend staying here. This forest is full of dangerous beasts and monsters. No matter how skilled you are, it is too much for one person."
"I'm okay. Lived here... for three years."
"Even so—"
"I’ve got it! Wait a second," Camille interrupted, rummaging through his pack and pulling out a small crystal ball.
"Found it. Here."
"What is that?" I asked.
"A Small Identification Crystal! This provides a basic identity check and shows the top four skills. If the person is a criminal, it glows red. If they’re innocent, it glows blue. Then it displays their name, race, age, and four highest-level skills. If he has high-level combat skills, I won't argue about him staying."
I saw his angle. He wanted to use the boy's own stats to prove he wasn't strong enough to stay. And it would give us more information...
"Understood," Ryoma said. He reached for the crystal but paused as if remembering something. "Before... bandits attacked. I killed them. Is that... a crime?"
"If they were really bandits, there’s no problem," Camille assured him.
Satisfied, Ryoma touched the crystal. It pulsed with a steady blue light. Regardless of the bandits he had killed, the crystal confirmed he had never murdered an innocent. While the crystal's function isn't technically a "criminal check" in the strictest sense, it was enough to put our minds at ease.
However, as I looked at Camille, his face suddenly went pale.
"W-What is this?"
"What's the matter!?"
Jill peered over Camille's shoulder and gasped. When Zeff and I looked, we saw the problem. It was Ryoma’s skills.
The crystal displayed:
Housework Lv10 Mental Pain Resistance Lv9 Physical Pain Resistance Lv8 Health Lv7
I was speechless. What kind of levels were these? Housework at level 10 was rare but not unheard of. But Mental Pain Resistance at level 9, Physical Pain Resistance at level 8, and Health at level 7? What kind of horrific environment could possibly produce such levels in a child? And his age—11. That meant he had been living here alone since he was eight.
"Something... wrong?" Ryoma asked.
"U-Uhh... well, unfortunately, no combat skills showed up!" Camille squeaked.
I wanted to snap at him—is that really the issue here?—but I caught his eye and realized the others were thinking the same thing. We exchanged silent looks, but no one dared to speak.
Pain resistance skills are only acquired by enduring immense suffering. These levels suggested Ryoma had been through a hell we couldn't imagine. We didn't want to bring up memories he might be trying to forget. Asking the wrong question could cause him even more pain.
Given the blue light and his help so far, we knew he wasn't dangerous. I decided to change the subject.
"Pardon me, but could I use your washroom?"
"I'll go as well."
"Me too."
"The toilet... is in the back. Many slimes... they won't attack."
"I see. I used to be a Tamer myself. I won't bother your monsters."
I left Camille to watch over Hughes and followed Ryoma.
"This is incredible..." Zeff whispered.
"Yes... I've never seen so many slimes in one place."
The tunnels and rooms further back were teeming with slimes, crawling freely over the floors. Ryoma gave them a quiet command, and they cleared a path for us. Without that, we would have surely stepped on them.
The number of monsters a Tamer can contract with depends on the individual, and typically, the stronger the monster, the harder it is to maintain multiple contracts. Slimes are the weakest of monsters, but even so... was he really contracted with every single one of these? There were far too many to count.
"Ryoma, are all of these your tamed monsters?"
"Yes. For... research."
"Research?"
"On slime... evolution."
Looking closer, I realized these weren't just common slimes. I saw Sticky Slimes, Poison Slimes, and what looked like Acid Slimes. There were even two varieties I didn't recognize—likely rare evolutions.
Slimes can be found anywhere, so it isn't impossible to find their evolved forms, but reports of them in this forest only come in a few times a year. As Jill had noted, seeing this many high-ranking species at once was a first for me.
"Researching monster evolution is a vital field for Tamers and Summoners. It’s impressive that you’re tackling it at such a young age. Though, I suppose it’s a bit of a shame they’re only slimes..."
"Slimes... are they bad?"
Personally, I respected the skill and dedication it took to contract with so many evolved species. However, the world does not share that sentiment.
"I don't mean to be harsh, but slimes are weak even after they evolve. Tamers and Summoners use them to learn the basics safely, but they aren't considered valuable beyond that. Most Tamers abandon or get rid of their slimes as soon as they can contract something else—usually a Horn Rabbit. They’re much more popular as pets, you see."
"...That’s a cold way to think."
I was taken aback. It was an oddly cynical observation for an eleven-year-old.
"That’s just the majority opinion. Not every Tamer feels that way. The toxins of a Poison Slime or the acid of an Acid Slime are nothing to scoff at. In a real fight, they can be far more useful than a Horn Rabbit."
"Slimes... are convenient. Useful."
I thought he might be dejected by the low public opinion of his companions, but I was wrong. He didn't seem to care at all. While that wasn't necessarily bad, most children his age crave validation from others.
His background was a total mystery, but I felt no malice from him. If anything, he was a kind soul who had helped us in our hour of need. Yet, he was clearly no ordinary child.
In more ways than one, he was a boy I simply couldn't leave alone.