Two hours later.
With the help of the crew from Shikumu’s Pier, we finished applying the acidic mucus throughout the open-air bath. We were currently gathered in front of the cabin for an early lunch.
We sat on a cloth spread across the ground. Today’s meal consisted of the usual soup and rice balls provided by the lady of the house. The rice balls were filled with simmered fish; the savory, concentrated flavor was a perfect match for the rice.
The weather was beautiful. As I ate, thinking the whole scene felt like a pleasant picnic, I heard voices coming from the mountain path.
I wondered who would be up this high on the mountain, until a voice called out.
"Gah! The road is as terrible as ever... Oh!"
"My Lord!?"
Emerging from the thicket was none other than the Count himself.
Two Dragonewts, who appeared to be his guards, followed close behind him.
"Master!?" Pigu exclaimed.
"Pigu. Did you guide them up here yourself?"
"Of course, my Lord. There is no one more familiar with this location than I."
"A fair point. I did say I would leave the personnel to you. But you really should consider your age... well, no matter. More importantly, it seems I’ve interrupted your meal again."
"No, not at all. But my Lord, what brings you here?"
"I simply found myself curious about the progress. I finished my urgent business and came to see for myself. Do you think the cleaning is possible?"
I took the opportunity to show him the bath area and explain the current situation.
"I see... So you had a chemical that could actually dissolve that rock-like grime."
"I didn't have any professional supplies on hand, so this is an improvised substitute, but it is proving effective."
"Master," Pigu added, "I witnessed the experiment with my own eyes. Currently, they have applied cloths soaked in the solution to allow it to penetrate the buildup. Even at this stage, the surface has already begun to soften."
"In about an hour, I plan to remove the cloths and begin the deep cleaning in earnest," I explained.
"That sounds very promising."
The Count stepped outside the cabin, looking satisfied.
The two guards and the members of Shikumu’s Pier—whom I’d told to keep eating—were waiting outside. However, since no one was talking, the atmosphere was a bit awkward.
The Count seemed to pick up on the tension.
"Oh, come to think of it, I haven't introduced my companions yet. This is Kitchomaru, who serves as my guard and personal attendant."
"I am Kitchomaru. It is an honor," the man said with a formal bow.
"And this man is a master of Sumo, a martial art passed down in the Dragonewt Village—"
"I be Tairyuzan. Pleasure to meet ya," the other man boomed.
"He is recognized as a Yokozuna, the highest rank for those who study the art. He serves not only as my guard but also as my Sumo instructor."
As the two men bowed, the rest of us followed suit and introduced ourselves.
After the crew from the pier finished, I was the last to go. The introduction finally cleared up a few things for me.
"So you really were studying Sumo, my Lord."
"Indeed. Yesterday, I noticed your gaze was different from the others. It seems you were already familiar with the art, Ryoma-kun."
"Yes. My grandparents were adventurers in their younger days, and I heard many stories from them. I just never expected to meet a real Rikishi here."
"I first encountered Sumo during my time at the academy," the Count explained. "One of my classmates was an exchange student from the Dragonewt Village. When I heard him describe the art, I knew I had found exactly what I needed.
"We Pig-kin put on weight easily and find it difficult to lose. We are naturally built this way. However, those in the Dragonewt Village who aspire to be Rikishi purposely eat massive quantities of food to build that exact physique. When we try typical training, like swordsmanship, we are always told to lose weight first. Many Pig-kin end up ruining their bodies—especially their knees—due to overtraining while carrying heavy weight. But Sumo possesses training methods designed specifically to maintain a large frame while keeping it mobile. I realized then that it was a martial art practically made for our race!"
The Count had harbored a secret desire to learn Sumo ever since. Once he became the Lord of the territory, he had recruited Tairyuzan at the same time he began his agricultural and engineering projects.
"By the way, Ryoma-kun. May I ask you something?"
"Certainly, if it’s something I can answer."
"When I looked at the bath earlier, I saw cloths stuck all over the stone. I understand the purpose, but do adventurers typically carry such a massive supply of fabric?"
"Ah. You're right, a normal adventurer wouldn't. In my case, I use Space Magic, so the volume isn't an issue. I use it for everything from emergency bandages to making my own clothes, so I tend to buy it in bulk whenever I find it cheap."
"Wait, you made that jacket yourself as well?"
He was pointing at my mock down jacket, so I nodded honestly.
"Ho... Actually, on the boat back yesterday, we were discussing how warm your clothes looked. It seems the Dragonewt Village has something similar, and it reminded these two of home."
"The similar clothing... could it be Hanten? You know, like a short coat—"
"That be exactly it!" Tairyuzan shouted.
"To think you even know of Hanten... you are remarkably well-versed in our village's culture," Kitchomaru noted.
"Thank you. Most of it is just what my grandparents taught me, but I also have an acquaintance from your village who came to my area for training."
"Is that so?"
"Hmm. I suppose I should expect no less from the Sage of Barley Tea," the Count chuckled.
There he went again with that title.
"That title is a bit embarrassing... and honestly, I feel like I'm not worthy of it."
"Nonsense. There is no doubt you are a man of great knowledge."
"However, Master," Pigu interrupted, "when most people hear the word 'Sage,' they think of the legendary Lady Mellia. Being compared to someone of her stature might be why Ryoma-dono feels so hesitant."
"Hmm. You may have a point. My apologies, I didn't mean to pressure you."
"No, please don't worry about it."
"I see. You said the work would take a bit longer?"
"Yes. I want to let the solution sit just a while longer."
"Then I shall return later to see the results. I have high expectations. Please, continue."
"Understood."
As I bowed, the Count and his guards pushed back into the brush and headed up the mountain. I paused. Wait... if he was coming back later, was he going to hike all the way down and then back up again?
"No," Pigu explained, "the Master has likely gone to visit the former Lord’s grave. Per the former Lord's final wishes, he was buried at the summit of this mountain. The Count often lamented that it was difficult to visit regularly, so this request for you might have been a convenient excuse for a pilgrimage."
"I see. That’s good to hear."
Still, building a hot spring as one's only luxury and then choosing it as a final resting place...
"The former Lord really did love this mountain, didn't he?"
"Yes... whenever he could find a moment, he was here. He actually built this open-air bath himself, you know."
"What? He did this by himself? I’d heard it was his one luxury, so I assumed he hired professional stonemasons."
Pigu smiled warmly, lost in thought.
"That man never spent a copper on himself. If there was money to spare, he poured every bit of it into building roads."
"Roads. I’ve heard a bit about that. It sounded like an incredibly grueling task."
"It was. The former Lord wasn't the first to try, but everyone before him was defeated by the marshes and the suffocating forests. They all gave up.
"But he invested his entire private fortune into it. He would go out to the sites personally, working in the mud alongside the men, never stopping until the job was done. He even did the repairs on the manor himself. Until the day he died, he performed the maintenance on this cabin every time he visited. He was a man who couldn't stand waste."
He really had been a dedicated man.
I glanced toward the changing room, noticing a map through the open door.
...?
"Is something wrong?" Pigu asked.
"No, just that handwritten map."
"What about it?"
"I assume it’s a map of the territory, but something about it feels... off."
Wait. Why was there even a map in a place like this? In a cabin that lacked even the basic necessities, it was the one thing that seemed out of place. Yet, it was framed and displayed with great care.
"That is a map of the hot springs," Pigu said.
"Hot springs?"
"Yes. It’s not well known, but the Fatma Territory has several 'mud springs' where hot mud bubbles up from the earth. If you look closely at the roads on that map, they all converge on those locations.
"Many of those roads were never actually built. It was likely a vision he drew from his imagination. I suspect the former Lord intended to turn this territory into a hot spring resort once the main roads were finished."
"I see."
But I didn't know anything about mud springs, so that didn't explain the strange feeling I had.
I took another long look at the map. But in the end, I couldn't pin down what was bothering me. Time slipped by.
"Ryoma-kun, isn't it about time?"
"You're right. Let's get back to it."
We resumed the cleaning. I pulled on my gloves, wrapped a cloth over my face as a mask, and positioned a Cleaner Slime over my eyes like goggles. After stripping away the soaked cloths, I used high-pressure water magic to blast the walls and floor.
The mineral deposits, already weakened by the acidic mucus, began to peel away under the force of the water. It wasn't perfectly clean yet, but this was exactly what I had expected.
"Alright, everyone. If you please!"
"You got it!" the crew shouted.
The team from Shikumu’s Pier joined in, fully equipped. They began scraping away the softened deposits and reapplying the solution to the most stubborn spots.
"Whoa! This stuff really makes it easy to scrape!"
"Same over here!"
"It's thick, but the liquid definitely soaked into the cracks."
"It's brittle now. I think I can break this chunk off!"
We used tools to chip away the larger masses as if we were carving stone. With the help of the various slimes, we worked through the grime.
"We're finished!"
After two more hours of hard labor, the cleaning was finally complete.