Akatsuki Translations

Amidst the gentle sunlight.

Sipping a bean tea brewed from roasted beans, one of the recent trial products, and a particularly good one.

The aromatic tea naturally soothes the heart of the drinker.

“So, you’ll explain, won’t you, boy?” -Sheets

“Uh, hehe.” -Pastry

“Hehe won’t do. Playing the innocent child act now won’t deceive me. You better explain properly.” -Sheets

He emptied the wooden bowl of tea in one gulp and slammed it on the table.

The fact that he was thirsty from running around aimlessly for hours was true, so finishing the tea was a matter of moments.

“Well, I didn’t know Sheets was following me. I sent someone later to inform you, but you missed each other.” -Pastry

Pastry, trying to look serious, somehow failed.

The reason became clear upon reflection: he was sitting on his mother’s lap.

To be precise, the worried Lady Morteln had embraced her returning son as soon as she saw him and refused to let him go. She had fallen asleep on the chair holding him. He had been trying to escape her grip, but he was held tightly and couldn’t move.

The atmosphere was hardly suitable for a serious discussion, but they proceeded nonetheless.

“Well, I thought it was a wasted effort on my part, given that we missed each other. By the time we arrived at the scene, you had already returned to the mansion.” -Pastry

“Yeah, yeah.” -Casserole

“But how did you overtake those who were chasing after you? You would have had to fly through the air or something to bypass them!” -Sheets

“I’d like to know that too. Pas, what on earth did you do?” -Casserole

Lady Morteln’s son, sitting on her lap, looked up at his father, Casserole, and his right-hand man, Sheets.

What the lord and his close aide wanted to know most was this.

It was joyous that the boy in front of them had returned safely. However, they needed to know what he did to achieve that. Without that knowledge, they might make a wrong judgment as leaders.

They were questioning their son, partly lecturing him, but mostly trying to understand the situation.

“Let’s go step by step. First, why did you chase the bandits alone?” -Sheets

“I knew the bandits’ capabilities. Taking someone unfamiliar with a sword would have been more troublesome than chasing them alone. I also considered the possibility of increasing the number of hostages.” -Pastry

“Why didn’t you wait for Sheets or me and then chase after them?” -Casserole

“It might have been fatal to wait. Time was more valuable than gold at that point. I decided that acting promptly was better than acting wisely.” -Pastry

The adults sighed in understanding.

If they were honest, they would have preferred him to wait. But had they been in his shoes, they might have made the same decision, prioritizing time. There’s a good chance that valuing time over waiting for other members or partners to gather could have been a valid choice.

While they could scold a mere child, Pastry, despite being somewhat inexperienced, is an adult. Even if still somewhat inexperienced, on-site judgments should be respected unless they’re severely misguided. It’s easy for people to criticize things afterward, so if their decision at that moment helped avoid the worst outcome, it’s commendable. The fact that they successfully rescued the hostage should be respected above all else.

If they were to scold Pastry over this, it would imply that they’re always expected to make the best decisions themselves. Even though they are seasoned warriors, they can’t definitively claim that their judgments are always the best. Since they can’t make such a claim, they can’t scold based on it not being the best decision.

“Understood, for now, let’s consider it acceptable. It’s not necessarily entirely wrong, and there’s no point in scrutinizing judgments that yielded good results.” -Casserole

“Yes.” -Pastry

“Well then, did you engage with the bandits? I know about your sword skills as well. Leading a band of bandits of that magnitude. The opponent must have been fairly skilled in their own right. Yes, to the extent that you couldn’t match them.” -Casserole

Pastry grimaced for a moment.

An attitude that seemed to echo thoughts like, “I really didn’t want to be asked that.”

Although it was somewhat phrased as a question, there was no evidence to deny words that would almost sound like an assertion.

“Indeed, they were formidable opponents. If it were just swordsmanship, they were definitely several levels above me.” -Pastry

“Didn’t you think you were being reckless?” -Casserole

In a situation where one is facing an opponent much superior in swordsmanship, there’s a possibility they could get seriously injured.

Considering this, it might have been better not to chase them in the first place.

“I thought it would be challenging, but I was confident I could protect my vital points and avoid fatal injuries.” -Pastry

“And then?” -Casserole

“I thought, with my ‘Replication’ magic, I could transfer my injuries to the opponent, and at worst, it’d be a mutual defeat…” -Pastry

Sheets, who was standing by and listening sighed deeply.

Indeed, Pastry’s “Replication” magic is extremely troublesome.

The thought that they wouldn’t lose in a one-on-one fight, which Sheets considered before giving chase, was also due to this magic.

Even in mock battles, he had been greatly tormented by this “injury transfer.” The difficulty of dealing with the fact that the results of their own attacks returned multiplied several times. The absurdity of becoming more disadvantaged if he couldn’t finish it off in one blow was something he had lost to not once or twice.

Even Casseroles 【Teleportation】, befitting of the father of Pastry, was extremely troublesome in a one-on-one duel, but the sigh of exasperation came from realizing that his son also used a brutal magic that was no less formidable.

While casting a sidelong glance at such sheets, Casserole, wearing the face of a father, continued.

“Was that your decision as well?” -Casserole

“Yes. It’s something I decided on my own.” -Pastry

“In that case, I won’t say anything further about it.” -Casserole

“Thank you.” -Pastry

It wasn’t Sheets, but Casserole who thought that recklessness ran in the family.

Of course, he conveniently set aside his own reckless youth and saw in his mind’s eye the image of his beloved wife.

He remembered her audacity in joyfully following him into the wilderness for pioneering, a challenging endeavor.

Drifting in and out of sleep, yet not letting go of her son on her lap, hints of that spirit were visible.

“Now, this is the most crucial part, but.” -Casserole

“Yes?” -Pastry

“How did you return here? No, let me rephrase: What magic did you use?” -Casserole

“Uhhh, it’s quite a complex situation and explaining would involve a detailed explanation. Can I possibly organize my thoughts and explain at a later date?” -Pastry

“Where did you learn to speak like some court noble? Just answer.” -Casserole

This was the critical point.

While Pastry’s unorthodox behavior wasn’t new, the magic he possesses is something that can replicate objects. There’s no way he could have jumped over those pursuing him and returned to the mansion.

The only possibility Casserole could think of was one he knew better than anyone.

Casserole stared intently at his son.

Feeling uncomfortable under that gaze was Pastry.

Reluctantly, he spilled the beans.

“My magic, as you know, replicates things. The conditions are that I have seen it with my own eyes, touched the real thing, can recognize the object, and can count the number of objects.” -Pastry

“I know that because I participated in the verification process.” -Casserole

“This time, I secretly used the “magic of father” that I had copied onto myself.” -Pastry

“I thought so.” -Casserole

This was it. This was the information Casserole had feared.

Normally, one doesn’t think about using another person’s magic. Even if they could, they wouldn’t.

Magic is often treated like a tactical weapon. Just as Casserole and Sheets were used as trump cards on the battlefield.

Handling such a dangerous entity requires caution. Naturally, using someone else’s magic is like sleeping with an unknown explosive under one’s bed.

With Casserole’s magic, one might teleport deep into the ground or inside a rock. With Sheets’s, one might look at something as bright as the sun and go blind.

Magic is as dangerous as it is convenient. Extreme caution is never enough, especially with someone else’s magic.

Furthermore, if magic is the culmination of self-concentration, embodying individuality, so normally, the magic of others has no value.

It’s like a notebook written in personal shorthand or symbols, meaningless to others.

Where in the world would there be a seven-year-old who could do such a thing so naturally?

Casserole and Sheets exchanged glances and then both held their heads in their hands.

“Pas. Listen, this is very important, so make sure you adhere to it.” -Casserole

“What is it?” -Pastry

“From now on, never boast or display the ability to replicate other people’s magic in public. Also, ensure that no one discovers your magic replication.” -Casserole

“Yes.” -Pastry

For Pas, this was an expected outcome.

He was well aware that magic is treated as a dangerous entity. That’s why he didn’t want to reveal it. He wanted to keep it a secret.

From now on, he would keep the fact that his magic could mimic others’ abilities to himself. There was no dissent there.

If others found out, it would be deemed far more dangerous than the magic of any other mage. While allies might react differently, those who opposed him would see him as a top-priority target for elimination. Judging by the extent of his magical power, he could even be treated as a strategic weapon. If the secret got out, any hope of a normal life would be shattered. A peaceful existence would become nothing more than a dream.

“In that case, letting the bandits escape was a mistake.” -Sheets

Indeed, the most significant concern for Casserole, while listening to the story, was that they let the head of the bandits escape.

His son’s decision to prioritize the safety of the village children and choose to flee from a formidable opponent wasn’t wrong. Casserole was even proud of his son for successfully protecting his friend.

“In order to save the hostage, I had to prioritize escaping. The enemy wasn’t something I could confront with my friend behind me. I was fully occupied just trying to pull Marc away.” -Pastry

“It was unavoidable, then. It’s too late to change anything now. Let’s hope the one who escaped dies soon, though they might already be dead somewhere.” -Casserole

“I hope so. But we should refrain from putting out a bounty.” -Pastry

“To protect the secret, right?” -Casserole

Given that the escaped enemy has a secret Pas doesn’t want revealed, the actions Casserole, as a father and lord, can take are limited.

He could openly gather information and look for the individual.

It would be relatively easy to discreetly inquire in other territories or neighboring countries about the bandits.

However, if he issues a wanted poster or circular, the risk to Pas would increase significantly.

Others might wonder why he’s so eager to catch them, and if they’re caught by someone outside of the Morteln territory, it could cause more problems.

Although actively searching increases the chance of capturing the individual, it could also lead to the spreading of Pastry’s secret.

“Why does my son always cause problems?” He was tempted to complain about this as a father.

However, he had the magnanimity to hold back his complaints, befitting of someone hailed as a distinguished lord.

After several exchanges of questions and answers, Casserole finally concluded.

“So, we’ve heard the general details now?” -Casserole

“Well, there are still things you’d probably want to know, but I suppose this is good enough for now. You can ask the rest later.” -Pastry

“Alright, then. Pastry, you must be tired too. Take a good rest.” -Casserole

“In that case, I’ll take my leave.” -Pastry

Lord Morteln gently woke his beloved wife and released the boy who was by her side.

Seizing the opportunity, Pas left the room.

However, the boy had no intention of resting.

He had something he needed to do right now.

◇◇◇◇◇

The villagers of the three villages were finally trying to return to their daily lives after the battle.

Amidst the adults bustling about, a boy sat alone, lost in thought, doing nothing. Just sitting.

At the edge of the village, in a place that could easily be overlooked, that boy, Marcarullo, was there.

He looked down as if staring at his toes, deep in thought.

He sighed for what felt like the umpteenth time and pondered again.

“What’s wrong? You’re not like your usual self.” -Pastry

When Marc looked up at the voice, he saw his best friend.

With silver hair that shimmered in the bright sun, the friend sat down next to him, showcasing the closeness of their friendship.

“It’s rare for you to be so down.” -Pastry

“Shut up.” -Marcarullo

Being pointed out that he was downcast, and realizing it himself, the boy felt even more despondent.

And then, another sigh.

The silence continued.

By the time Marcarullo had sighed about five more times, his best friend spoke.

“It’s about Lumi, isn’t it?” -Pastry

In response to the question, there was only silence.

The boy’s silence, as he hugged his knees, told it all. His friend, Pas, continued the conversation with a smile.

“Lumi’s injuries are healing. There’ll be scars, but her life isn’t in danger.” -Pastry

For the two sitting there, Lumi was another friend.

The mischievous boy, known for his troublemaking, felt so down just because she wasn’t there. Pas felt a strange freshness about it.

“It’s my…” -Marcarullo

“Hm?” -Pastry

“It’s my fault. That she got hurt.” -Marcarullo

Pas genuinely felt that Marc was concerned about that.

Marcarullo is the son of a retainer.

He grew up surrounded by adults, so he’s mischievous, has a sharp tongue, and doesn’t care about restraining himself around adults, making him not very endearing.

But he is a boy with a strong sense of justice and responsibility. Pas thought Marc acted out because he wanted adults to notice him, not for fun.

If he inadvertently hurt someone due to his carelessness, it’s not hard to imagine that he would feel bad about it.

“If I had done what she said, she wouldn’t have gotten hurt. The bandits wouldn’t have escaped. You wouldn’t have been bothered.”

“Marc…” -Pastry

“It’s all, all!! It’s all my fault!!” -Marcarullo

Before he knew it, the emotional boy’s eyes were wet with tears.

“I don’t think you troubled me. And I believe Lumi will forgive you with a smile.” -Pastry

“But she’s left with a scar.” -Marcarullo

“Apologize, and she’ll forgive you.” -Pastry

“I can’t forgive myself. She… she’s a girl. The scar will last a lifetime!!” -Marcarullo

That’s when Pas truly understood what was bothering Marc.

Luminito has a sharp tongue like Marc.

The youngest of four siblings, all older brothers, she acts and dresses boyishly, often mistaken for a boy.

But she’s still a girl. If she has a scar, it will haunt her for life.

That’s probably where Marc’s sense of responsibility comes from.

“Anyway, sulking here won’t help. If you’re concerned, apologize to Lumi directly. Come on, let’s go.” -Pastry

“Hey, don’t drag me. Where are we going?” -Marcarullo

“Of course, to her house.” -Pastry

Sometimes, being forceful is necessary.

The depressed boy was dragged to his best friend’s house. When they were let in, they found their friend lying there, dressed in simple sleepwear.

There were bloodstains on the bandages peeking out, but it seemed the bleeding had stopped as the stains were brown.

“Hey, what brings you two here?” -Marcarullo

She must have noticed her two visiting friends.

Her face, which looked bored, turned into a smile as she greeted them. But the smile stiffened halfway, probably due to pain. Her friends’ eyes were sharp enough not to miss that.

“We came to visit you. How’s the injury? It seems painful.” -Pastry

“Yeah, it still hurts a lot. But my dad said I’ll be fine. I wanted to go out, but he yelled at me to stay in bed.”  -Luminito

“I see. Oh, I have something to do, so I’ll borrow the kitchen.” -Pastry

“Ask my mom.” -Luminito

For some reason, Pastry hurried out of the room.

Naturally, the two mischievous friends, Marc and Lumi, were left alone, facing each other.

“Um, Lumi…” -Marcarullo

“What’s with that face? Did you eat a rotten melon or something?” -Luminito

If the boy was straightforward, he would have been a well-behaved child.

Of course, he isn’t the type to easily speak his mind.

Inevitably, though he seemed eager to express himself, he became hesitant, making a grimacing expression.

It seemed he finally made up his mind after being pointed out about it.

“Ahhh… I’m sorry!!” -Marcarullo

With a force that seemed like it would make a loud noise, Marc bowed deeply.

Seeing this, Lumine tilted her head in confusion. She didn’t understand why he was suddenly apologizing.

“Hey, what’s with you all of a sudden? It’s creepy when you apologize. It’s giving me goosebumps. Stop it, it’s gross.” -Luminito

“No, I mean, because of me, you got injured, right? I feel bad about it. So I’m apologizing. I’m sorry.” -Marcarullo

Once he started apologizing, he continued sincerely. Marc was apologizing with all his might and sincerity.

A heartfelt apology is something that everyone can understand. Its seriousness was painfully clear to Lumi.

The two have known each other for a long time. She somewhat understood why the boy in front of her was apologizing. They were two professionals when it came to apologizing. They believed they knew better than anyone else if the apology was genuine.

“It’s okay. The injury was because of that damned bandit who slashed me. It wasn’t your fault.” -Luminito

“But, because I did something stupid, the sword was stolen. So, I’m apologizing again. I’m sorry.” -Marcarullo

“I said it’s fine.” -Luminito

If awkwardness had a form, it would exist between the two of them right now.

Marc genuinely wanted to apologize to the girl from the bottom of his heart, and even if she forgave him, he couldn’t forgive himself. That’s why he kept trying to apologize.

From Lumi’s perspective, Marc’s careless actions were a daily occurrence. Today was no different. She couldn’t be mad at Marc for his typical foolishness, but she felt an unusual unease when he continued to apologize.

For quite some time, both tried to speak, leading to continuing confusion.

As the silence grew awkward between them, it was broken by both Lumi’s and Marc’s sense of smell.

“What’s that? It smells good.” -Marcarullo

“Yeah, it smells delicious.” -Luminito

Children’s senses are sharp.

Especially amidst the lingering scent of blood, the aroma of roasting and sweetness was irresistibly enticing.

“It seems Marc has managed to apologize properly.” -Pastry

The source of the aroma arrived.

The mutual childhood friend of the two mischievous kids, Pastry, had the answer on the wooden plate he carried.

“Hey Pas, what’s that delicious-looking thing?” -Luminito

Lumi, who had been fighting all night, not eating properly, and then was made to rest, asked. Since she had been resting, her stomach, which had only been fed something like sick-person food, growled because of the aroma.

“When I went to the capital the other day, I saw this fruit and decided to bake it just now. It’s an app-…no, a bonka pie.” -Pastry

“Woah…”

It’s uncertain who let out that voice of amazement.

Perhaps both of them felt the same way.

For the two children living in the village of Morteln, where barley porridge and black bread were staple foods, the pie in front of them was something they were seeing for the first time in their lives.

“This is my gift to Lumi for her recovery and encouragement for Marc. Go on, try it. Oh, and I’ve already gotten permission from Lumi’s family, so don’t worry about your injury and eat up.” -Pastry

The aroma, even before tasting, screamed “delicious.”

The blend of roasted fragrance and the subtle scent of fruit was mouth-watering.

“Yes! I’ll take this one.” -Luminito

“Ah, Lumi, I had my eyes on that big one.” -Marcarullo

“Hehe, first come, first served… It’s so good!!” -Luminito

As she greedily took a bite, there was a satisfying crunching sound.

Multiple layers of dough were stacked to protect the filling inside, preventing it from escaping. In that moment of crushing it with her teeth, a pleasant resistance accompanied by a satisfying sound burst forth.

From that moment, the protected fruit filling burst forth.

The moment Lumi took a bite of the pie, she almost forgot the pain of her injury.

The texture was like thick honey, a sweet fruit.

A refreshing taste that still brought forth a sense of bliss. It wasn’t just sweet; the fruitiness asserted itself strongly, harmonizing perfectly with the slightly salty pie crust.

Delicious. Completely lost in its deliciousness, Lumi became engrossed.

Before she realized it, the pie she had been holding was gone.

In its place, an indescribable feeling of happiness remained, along with a sense of satisfaction from enjoying the finest dessert.

This isn’t good.

There were eight slices of pie. They were limited.

In a hurry, she checked the wooden plate; two slices were already gone. Marc and Pas had each eaten one slice.

They must have felt the same way.

Marc too suddenly looked at the plate.

It’s a battle. A signal for a fight they absolutely can’t lose.

Lumi stretched out both hands, securing two slices, holding one slice in each hand. She took a big bite from the right one and then from the left.

It wasn’t exactly polite, but if she didn’t, she might lose this battle. And this battle was essentially for the last slice.

Of the eight slices of pie, Pas ate one, leaving Marc and Lumi to each gobble down three.

In the world of arithmetic, no matter how you calculate it, only one slice remains. In fact, the treasure left on the plate was indeed just one slice.

The outcome of the battle was a draw.

Both ate without any concern for manners, and in the end, both reached for the last slice simultaneously.

“You both are being quite immodest.” -Pastry

“”But it’s so good!”” -Marcarullo & Luminito

Pas chuckled, thinking how in sync they were.

They always hung out together, so it was no surprise that they said the same thing.

“Let’s decide the rights of the last slice later. Marc, Lumi, please try this.” -Pastry

“Is that the bonka thing?” -Marcarullo

“Yes, it is. I handpicked it to make this pie.” -Pastry

It was tempting to leave the pie and wait for an opportunity to eat it.

However, both Marc and Lumi resisted the urge, knowing the boy they respect as their future lord detests injustice regarding sweets.

Moreover, they were curious about the fruit itself.

The fruit that became an ingredient for such a sweet pie must be the best fruit.

Both thought it must be sweeter than any fruit they had ever eaten.

Expecting it to be so was inevitable after tasting the pie.

It was fruit preserved in honey. The fruit, which hadn’t been preserved for even a month, retained its original shape.

Both tasted the small cut pieces.

At that moment, they both grimaced.

“It’s sour.” -Marcarullo

“It’s super sour. What is this?” -Luminito

The only one smiling with a triumphant look was Pas. This rascal, even as an adult, hasn’t changed. The two felt that deeply.

“When I first tried it raw, I was surprised too. From sour to sweet, each one truly tastes different. What you two ate is from a region where the acidity is strong. It seems it was a young fruit picked before the sweetness developed, so even after being preserved in honey, it’s still quite sour.” -Pastry

“Pas, you knew this and still let us eat it, didn’t you?” -Marcarullo

“Of course, tasting before cooking is fundamental. I’ve experienced its sourness too. But do you know why I let you two taste it?” -Pastry

With a serious tone, the boy asked.

Neither could think of why, so they gave up trying.

“Fruits suitable for pies aren’t necessarily the sweetest. When eaten raw, fruits with strong sweetness and lots of juice are preferred. However, for this kind of cooking, it’s better if the fruit has a strong aroma and acidity and less juice.” -Pastry

What Pas said was true.

Just as it’s common knowledge that apples like the Jonathan variety are suitable for apple pies, fruits with a stronger characteristic flavor are better for cooking. Especially since the pie crust Pas used was made from the same barley flour that the two had received as a reward, which had a slight peculiar taste. Therefore, the filling needed to have a strong character to match. A fruit that is said to be “easy to eat” is, in essence, bland. Being bland will become a drawback when cooking.

The praise should be directed at the silver-haired boy for brilliantly balancing these two distinct flavors.

To the two of them, it was just a delicious treat their best friend made for them.

They couldn’t distinguish the quality of the fruit they tasted for the first time, let alone whether it was suitable for pie or not. They took it at face value.

The sourer ones probably make for a tastier pie, they thought.

“I believe people are the same. There are various flavors, various personalities, and how to utilize them depends on the artisan’s skill. Marc, you’ve had a bitter experience this time. Perhaps a sour taste has been left in your heart. It’s just like the scar that Lumi will have on her belly. It will probably never disappear.” -Pastry

“I’m sorry.” -Marcarullo

“What I want to say to you, Marc, is this: No matter what kind of personality you have, I intend to make the most of it. As for this incident, believe that it has added depth to your character and be proud. Reflect on it and use that reflection for the future. That is, if you decide to be my subordinate.” -Pastry

“I will. Definitely.” -Marcarullo

“That’s what I’d expect from my best friend.” -Pastry

Marc put the remaining bonka into his mouth.

It was sour, and the tear that trickled down was, he excused, because of the taste.

Their best friend had grown up a little.

Pace and Lumi watched him with a smile.

Then, their eyes met inadvertently. They were both concerned about Lumi’s bandaged appearance.

“Will Lumi’s scar remain?” -Marcarullo

“It seems so. But they say a man’s scars are his medals.” -Luminito

“But Lumi is a girl. Aren’t you told to be more cautious?” -Pastry

“Don’t preach like my grandpa. But yeah, if you give me the last piece, I promise to completely forget about the scar.” -Luminito

Such a straightforward deal.

On the wooden plate was the last slice of bonka pie, resembling an apple pie. In the countryside where sweet treats were rare, this was a true delicacy.

Even during festivals, it’s rare to have such delicious sweets. Children’s love for sweets is a universal truth, and it was no different here.

“Well, it’s a get-well treat. It should be fine, right? It’s okay with you too, right Marc?” -Pastry

“I guess.” -Marcarullo

Although Marc’s voice still trembled slightly, he seemed to be regaining his inherent resilience.

Just when it seemed he had regained his composure, a bombshell dropped.

“I have to forget the injury, or Grandpa will nag me. He said you should take responsibility and make me your bride.” -Luminito

“What?! Bride?!” -Marcarullo

“Ah, this is indeed delicious.” -Pastry

As Lumi happily savored the pie, Marc, for some reason, was stunned.

His face had turned as red as an apple.

Conclusion of Arc 1