The Death Mage Who Doesn’t Want a Fourth Time

r the underground water was suitable to drink yet.

“Huh, there’s a well in a place like this~”

Acting like a child playing detective, Vandalieu led the villagers to the well.

“That’s impossible, there’s no way there would be a well… it’s a well! There’s a well?!”

“What?! H-how could this…?!”

“What about the water?! How’s the water?!”

The villagers rushed in.
Vandalieu took the water he had already drawn and returned to cooking.

And then he carefully prepared the organs.

“No matter how much I use Sterilization and Disinfect, it’s not like the contents of the organs physically disappear.”

People wouldn’t want to eat the organs of an Orc, even if they were harmless to the body.
The same applied for Vandalieu.

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“Thank you very much, Familiar Spirit-sama! Not only have you saved my sons, but you have given us such an abundant well! How could we ever thank you for this…!”

“Thanks to you, this village can prosper for many years, many decades to come! Thank you, thank you!”

Incidentally, as to be expected, the villagers had realized that the well had been created by Vandalieu.

But then, Vandalieu hadn’t expected that he would be able to fool them completely anyway.
What was important was that the villagers didn’t know that he was using unknown magic and skills.
Earth-attribute magic and water-attribute magic alone would be sufficient to dig a well.

“Err, I’m in the middle of cooking… Umm, creating a shrine to Vida would be more than enough repayment,” Vandalieu told them.

“Understood! We shall build a Church once the village is prospering!”

“No, a shrine is enough.”

The village’s water shortage had been more severe than Vandalieu had expected.
Apparently they would have had to think about abandoning the village within the next few years if the situation hadn’t improved.

 

 

 

“So, Vandalieu-sama, where are you headed now?”

“The last village, the Second Cultivation Village.” Vandalieu was using Flight to travel while talking to Eleanora and the others through the communication Magic Item, the shrunken Goblin head.

“Pardon me for asking, but why are you helping the cultivation villages, Vandalieu-sama?” Eleanora asked.
“Your objective is to register at the Adventurers’ Guild, isn’t it?” She seemed to be unable to understand why Vandalieu was going around helping the cultivation villages.

“Don’t say that,” said Zran.
“Helping people is a good thing, isn’t it?”

“You’re doing great, King,” said Braga.
“By the way, my encounter –”

“If you stand out too much, you will be noticed by the Vampires who worship Hihiryushukaka,” said Eleanora.
“I think you shouldn’t do anything unnecessary.”

Zran had always thought favorably of the people in the Hartner Duchy that had done trade with Talosheim.
To be more precise, the people of the cultivation villages were originally refugees from the Sauron Duchy, but he didn’t seem to be interested in making this distinction.

But Eleanora was advocating that Vandalieu should quickly register at the Adventurers’ Guild.

Vandalieu shouldn’t endanger himself to help people who weren’t even citizens of Talosheim at no benefit to himself.
This was an extremely sensible viewpoint.

In fact, most people passing by would think, “Oh my, how troublesome,” and then be on their way.
Of course, mages capable of using healing magic might have saved Ivan in the Seventh Cultivation Village.

But would a mere passer-by with no obligations to do anything, who wasn’t even an adventurer, have gone to the Fifth Cultivation Village afterwards? And would they have thought about going around to the other cultivation villages after that?

The reality was that Vandalieu gained nothing of use from helping the people of the cultivation villages.
He gained the thanks and respect of the poor people, lodging and meals at crude inns, and verbal promises that shrines would be built in Vida’s name.
None of these contributed towards the accomplishments of his goals at all.

Registration as an adventurer could be done without getting involved with the people of the cultivation villages, and his registration wouldn’t be rejected because he hadn’t helped the people before registering.

Popularity among the lowest commoners wasn’t really taken into account for people becoming noblemen, so not having such popularity wouldn’t be a problem at all.

Helping the people wouldn’t be of any help for resurrecting Darcia or getting revenge on Heinz and the others, either.

That was why Eleanora thought that rather than gaining anything in return, he was actually simply increasing the chances of being noticed by enemies, the Vampires who worshipped evil gods.

“That’s true, but if I am able to help them, it’s better to help them, isn’t it?” When Vandalieu was asked to explain it, this was what it came down to.
“It’s said that the good you do to others is good that you do to yourself.
If I do good deeds like this, I’m sure it will come back to me and good things will happen for me as well.”

“I-is that how it is?” For Eleanora, with her sense of values and previous experiences, Vandalieu’s reasoning could be said to be the reasoning of a foolish, softhearted person.

But Vandalieu was firm in his response.
“That’s how it is.”

He believed in the unsightliness, foolishness, evil intentions and wickedness of people.
He even thought that these were what made people people, and he couldn’t deny that he had these qualities as well.

However, unsightliness had a counterpart in beauty; foolishness in wisdom; evil intentions in good intentions; wickedness in virtue.
These concepts came into existence because their counterparts also existed.
If the entire world was unsightly, foolish, filled with evil intentions and wicked, words to describe these wouldn’t exist.
All of these negative qualities could simply be described as, “Normal,” “Ordinary,” “Common,” and “Average.”

That was why people having beauty, wisdom, good intentions and virtue was a fact that could not be doubted.

Therefore, it could also be said that Vandalieu believed in the beauty, wisdom, good intentions and virtue of people as well.

“I don’t intend to say that it’s the responsibility of people with power, or anything like that.
I dislike that way of thinking as well.
All I want is to become happy, so I’m simply making others a little happier as well.”

“But what about the Vampires…?”

After hearing all of this, Eleanora interpreted Vandalieu’s way of thinking, the idea that “If everyone is smiling, that will make you smile as well” that a young child might be taught, was something that would only be applied to those other than enemies.

If that was the case, she would be able to understand to some extent.
She would still think of Vandalieu as softhearted, but she herself had originally been an assassin sent to kill Vandalieu.
She was only alive and present here because of that softhearted way of thinking.

Even so, Eleanora expressed that she would still like Vandalieu to think more about the danger of being noticed by the Vampires, but Vandalieu gave her a carefree response.

“It’s still alright.
Even Gubamon and the others who worship Hihiryushukaka, the most influential Vampires in this continent, wouldn’t have the organizational capability to have informants in recently-constructed cultivation villages.
It will be a while before traveling merchants start coming to these villages, and even longer before news of me reaches the towns.”

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“Then I suppose that’s fine, but…”

“Then should we come close to those cultivation villages as well?” asked Zran.

“Hmm, please make sure you aren’t seen by the people of the village,” said Vandalieu.

“King, my lov–”

“Also, make sure you ask about our descendants and Levia-sama if you can,” Zran reminded Vandalieu.

“Okay.
But I don’t think the people in the villages would know anything about them.”

 

 

 

When Vandalieu arrived in the final village, the Second Cultivation Village, there was no traveling merchant trying to poison the villagers, bandits trying to sneak inside, Orcs sent by a tamer or anything of the sort.

However, instead of a sudden crisis, a long-term crisis had apparently been ongoing for a long time.

“The first year was good, but the amount of rice we harvest has been decreasing year after year.
We have been improving the land and such, but… At this rate, not only will we be unable to pay taxes in three years’ time, but we may even have people die of starvation in this year’s winter.
O Familiar Spirit-sama of Alda, please save this village.”

Following the lead of the Dwarf chief of the village, the masses of villagers lowered their heads towards Vandalieu.
Was it really appropriate that they had begun treating him like a Familiar Spirit right away simply because he had descended from the sky just as they were offering prayers for an abundant harvest?

“Well, I’ll do what I can, but… Also, I’m a Dhampir who believes in Vida.
I’m not a Familiar Spirit of Alda,” Vandalieu told them.

Like the other cultivation villages that Vandalieu had visited, there were only shrines to Alda in the Second Cultivation Village.
Had that priest of Alda in the Seventh Cultivation Village been particularly zealous with his missionary work?

Leaving that aside, with the problem simply being a poor harvest, the things that Vandalieu could do were limited.
First, he went to have a look at the fields.
Incidentally, the fields were unflooded, dry fields*.

TLN*: As opposed to flooded fields which, to my understanding, are more commonly used to grow rice.

 

Having a rough look with the knowledge and instincts from his Farming skill, the rice plants did indeed look weak to Vandalieu.

There was plenty of water, and the plants didn’t look like they were affected by disease.
As Vandalieu went to lick the soil and examine the soil’s composition by taste, there was a weak reaction from his Danger Sense: Death spell.

“Could it be poison?” Vandalieu wondered.
“Disinfect.”

The reaction disappeared from the soil immediately.
It seemed that there were substances harmful to the body present in the dirt.
The Detoxification spell worked on the rice plants, so it seemed that this really was the cause of the poor harvest.

“But why is there poison in the soil?”

This was strange.
The soil of this village seemed to be the same as the soil of the other cultivation villages.
If the poison had mixed into the water used to irrigate the fields, Danger Sense: Death would have reacted to the irrigation channels as well.

“Have you been using a special fertilizer?” Vandalieu asked, but everyone, including the village chief, shook their heads.

“We’re using compost made from plant and wood ash and human waste.
But the other cultivation villages should be doing the same,” said the chief.

“Oyaji, there was one time where the gentlemen from the Knights’ Order came to train and brought some insecticide for us as well, wasn’t there?” said his son.

“Now that you mention it, you are right.
That was the Knights’ Order led by the duke’s eldest son, Prince Lucas, was it not? But he apparently delivered the same insecticide to the other cultivation villages…”

The conversation between the Dwarf village chief and his son, who couldn’t be told apart other than by whether their hair and beards were black or white, didn’t make anything clear.

Well, the insecticide was suspicious no matter how Vandalieu thought about it, but he couldn’t think of a reason for the Knights’ Order spreading poison only on the fields of this cultivation village.

As long as there weren’t any strange familial conflicts happening, anyway.

If I recall, the cultivation project was started by the second son, Belton, and the leader of the Knights’ Order is the oldest son, Lucas.
The traveling merchant, the bandits, the tamer and this village’s fields… I have a bad feeling about this.

Even if there was a familial conflict, why were there conspiracies targeting poor people like these on the edge of the region? It would be better off if they would just have bloody conflicts between family members in their own castles and mansions.

“For now, I’ve erased the poison in the soil of the fields and the rice plants,” Vandalieu told the villagers.

He might have erased the evidence as well, but the culprit would likely have the backing of an influential person, so it would probably be pointless to preserve the evidence anyway.

The villagers cheered, but Vandalieu questioned whether this was really a great achievement.
Even with the poison erased, if there was a poor harvest due to cold weather, pests or disease, there would be no change to the fact that people would die of starvation in the winter.

Wasn’t there some way to improve the food situation of the village? If he spread his Mana into the fields, the beans planted in the ridges between the rice fields might turn into Monster Plants, so some other method.

As Vandalieu thought about it, he suddenly had an idea.
Perhaps because there had been a Goblin King, there were more Goblins near the village than usual.
And if he looked for Gobubu grass, he could quickly obtain some.

“Now then, everyone, I’ll teach you a way to make Goblins not taste terrible, so you can use them as food in emergencies,” he announced.

He would create the emergency rations of Ghouls, Gobu-gobu.