Chapter 2 - Farming in a Dating Sim is Exhausting
Before I died, I used to be a lazy person… at least I think so. Someone that didn't enjoy putting in much effort into anything, but always did what was needed to provide a comfortable life for himself that was the kind of person I was. It was hard to tell though, my memories of my past life were hazy and spotty.
After Zola left, my routine shifted dramatically, so much so that Mom and Dad were worried about me. Especially as I'd shifted from calling them Mother and Father into calling them Mom and Dad.
In my eyes, Mother and Father were what prissy little noble boys called the sperm donor and the woman who birthed them. But those same nobles underneath all their bluster likely saw the wet-nurses and tutors who raised them as their actual moms and dads. But for me? I had no nurses, no tutors. Just the wonderful, warm people that were my parents doing their best for me.
Still, Dad had at one point pulled me aside and asked if I was alright, and if Zola had done or said anything to scare me. I just told him the truth, that I realized that life wasn't going to be easy on us and I needed to be strong for my family, for the little brother that my mom was expecting.
He was initially disturbed at such a well-worded and mature response from a five-year-old… but little Leon could recognize a pleased light in his Dad's soft gray eyes and the older part of me realized that was pride in the eyes of ol' Balcus Bartfort.
How did my routine change though? Well, Leon before this was seen as a bit of a day-dreamer and a lazybones. Him sneaking off to the field to avoid his worst chores and tasks on his family's island was not uncommon. Although the fact that his Dad instead of punishing him sometimes joined Leon's cloud watching gave away the fact that it wasn't a major issue and the family saw it as just part of youth.
However, I now used every hour of the day I could. Leon hadn't lied that his family was poor and thus had to work as farmers, which was backbreaking work. I sadly never saw any little +1 to strength menus pop up for it. But I sure as hell felt more fit than I ever had before in my previous life from the farm work alone.
More than that though, I did not take it easy on the rest of my day. Leon mentioned that he spent the rest of the evening studying, which was something I emulated as well. Although he was content to appear as normal as possible, I was not.
In my Dad's eyes, I was a little prodigy, devouring the few books my family had, taking apart knowledge of the world as much as I could. Sadly while my reading and math skills shot up with my old memories (although math did not get as much of an improvement as it should've if I was being honest). -My history, social studies, and world knowledge sucked. Well actually they were as good as a lazy but clever five-year-old's knowledge, but that wasn't good enough.
I spent my evenings fixing that, but even with that I had more free time than Leon did due to pushing hard as I could for all my chores and studying to give me the last parts of the evening free. Those times… I trained.
I did not have the luxury of the Luxon yet to keep me safe from whatever butterflies I'd stirred up with my actions. But more than that, throughout the manga Leon survived by the skin of his teeth and it was almost always due to Luxon's help, not his own ability.
I wasn't content with that. So I bugged my dad into teaching me early how to wield a sword. Later I managed to get firearms training from him and, despite neither sets of memories knowing this, I was still unsurprised to find out my Dad was a veteran of more than one of the border wars with the other kingdoms.
He worked me hard though, reasoning that if I wanted to start early on these lessons of war, then I'd get the full package and not some watered down thing.
I also tried to allocate at least a few hours a week to my family. In these hours I talked with my siblings, listened to some of my Dad's war stories, and helped out my Mom in the kitchen. She was not exactly a great cook for meals… but good god could she bake some damn fine sour-dough.
My sisters, Jenna and Finley were both… Well honestly, they were both annoying and superficial. They thought the world of themselves, and despite not having a court to gossip in, they tittered about rumors about the nearby villages and towns. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but the fact that they looked down on their male siblings didn't endear me in the first place. Although when Jenna eventually headed off for the academy, Finley did start to get a lot nicer. So I partially blamed my older sister for being a bad influence, it might be that Zola half of her genes acting up.
Little Colin was a sweetheart though, pretty blonde hair, a cute face. My little brother would be a lady-killer when he was older I was sure of it. Well at least he'd look like one, I wasn't sure if he had the personality to break hearts. Still the entire family doted on him to some degree, even Jenna couldn't help but admit he was a cute kid and the picture perfect baby and child for our parents.
We were still nobles, so at the very least I never had to worry about washing my own clothes, or cleaning our modest little manor house. In all honesty I thought our manor house was quite spacious, a perfect size for us and our servants. Our farm-hands that also populated our island lived in a smaller building that was on another part of the island. The Manor was also clearly, quite luxurious, with carpets, candelabras, and fireplaces to keep it warm in winter.
Of course, if you listened to Zola about it we were paupers with our lack of fine art and decor, our lack of beast-men and elf servants to tend to the women's 'needs' and our food was simply 'barbaric' in its simplicity.
The fact that she was eating finer than we ever did whenever she visited apparently meant nothing to her. I wondered why Zola even bothered coming here every few months if she hated it so much. Sure the tithe we were forced to pay her to keep her from lashing out at us had to be picked up, but I didn't really get why she didn't have her daughter Merce, or her son Lutart pick up the money.
I suspected that the baroness didn't fully trust her daughter who had taken completely after her mother in terms of being such an awful person it bordered on parody. Her son Lutart was an arrogant dick, but I could tell that he had deep-rooted insecurities and I realized that he was seen as lesser than his older sister, that deep down he knew that the family he was stuck with didn't really love him, for Zola and Merce did not really know what love was.
It was… honestly sad. Even though he and Nicks quarreled often whenever Zola visited. Dad several times had to punish Nicks for responding to Lutart's taunts and snide remarks. Still I avoided the 'other' half of the family like a plague whenever I could, barely speaking a single word to them and never going beyond polite and docile one-word answers to their questions.
Or at least, that'd been the case till Lutart came across me and Nicks sparring.
XXXXX
Sweated beaded down my back and forehead, I was bare-chested since I felt back making the poor maids clean two sets of clothes for the day every time me and Nicks trained ourselves like this.
I was determined to win today. Nicks might have been taller and stronger than me thanks to his age, but I was determined to at least stop him from completely dominating me in a fight with a few clever tricks.
While my previous life leant me no advantage in terms of body strength, fighting against my Dad's attempts at simulating a monster… it did give me a hard advantage in dueling with longswords.
I was in a low stance, hunched over with my blade in front of me, holding it in two hands. In truth what the people here called long-swords were actually bastard swords… but since calling it that got me smacked for my language, I just decided to put up with reflexively cringing at the misuse of the words.
Nicks smirked at me, a bruise shining on his cheek from where I'd smacked him a good one with the wooden training sword. I myself had more than a few bruises on my arms and chest from today's session.
"Y'know Leo, you don't have to swing so hard." He grumbled rubbing at his face, making sure he was a good distance from me when he did. He'd learned that I was more than happy to take advantage of openings he'd left mid-fight. Sure enough as I stepped forward and moved to stab him he stepped back and I 'chased' him as he backtracked.
Something I noticed was that while this world did have some semblance of martial training. The families that actually engaged with it were few and far between. Soldiers were usually conscripts and untrained levies of peasants, nobles did not like sweaty work and often led from the rear (and poorly at that), and those who were career soldiers, mercenaries, or bandits all learned from painful experience… or died. In short the reason for the existence of 'sword-saint' families was that few people actually trained like Nicks and I did.
Nobles were supposed to, but the difference between what was supposed to happen, and what actually happened were night and day when it came to these things.
However, at that moment all I had on my mind was our spar.
"Hah. How else would you learn anything with that thick head of yours?" I snarked back at him with a little cocky smirk. "Besides, aren't you my 'tough, manly older brother?' Here I thought you could take a little bump from you ickle lil' Leo-kins" I said, using the same tone of voice he used to say those same words to me last night when I complained about how dusty the shed we slept in was.
"Hrm. Cocky little shit aren't you? Don't worry. I'll make sure you teach you -DISCIPLINE!" he called out as he literally jumped forward with his sword raised in an overhead strike. It was… a horrendous move. More like a kid playing with swords than an actual sword-fighting strike. Our Dad said he used a similar one to kill a Slime-beast that'd taken out half his squad when he was in the military.
Needless to say, with his entire body open, and my sword already in place to stab him? My brother collapsed in a groaning puddle of a person as he sucked in sharp breaths after I drove the blunt tip of my wooden training sword into his gut.
"Fuckin' -guuuh- bastard." he groaned out, clutching his aching gut.
"Hm. Considering that I was second born, wouldn't that make you a bastard as well?" I taunted with a smirk.
Nicks paused, before throwing a pebble at me from his spot on the ground, I laughed and ducked under the rock, pleased to have taken a victory from my cocky older brother. It also felt good because I think he learned a lesson about stupid theatrics in a fight. I always thought that chuuni bullshit in the middle of a fight was a great way to get stabbed.
"Well, I gotta say it's good to end your winning streak." I teased with a smile springing to my lips.
Then a voice rang out from behind me and my smile melted off my face and my blood froze.
"What do we have here? A pair of peasants rolling around in the mud? How droll." Merce spoke out, having apparently decided to stop by with the sole purpose of trying to wreck Nicks and I's day. Her younger brother Lutart as well as some kid-elf were behind her, my nose crinkled reflexively as I realized that even though Luce was barely a pre-teen Zola had purchased Merce a slave.
Good gods I hated this place. There was something truly despicable and degenerate about a pre-teen owning a sex-slave. Oh I'm sure he was meant for 'administrative' duties, but what the hell kind of administration did a 13 year old require?
"Hello Good-sister, Good-brother." I greeted mildly turning around after I quickly schooled my expression. I didn't want Merce seeing just how good she was at being a nuisance like her mother.
Her eyes glittered with annoyance that I'd reminded her that us dirt-covered peasants and her were related. Instead she unfolded a fancy embroidered paper and began to fan herself with it. "Hrmph. Sometimes I wonder if we're truly related." she muttered. My gaze darkened.
We all knew that none of us were related truly, that she and Lutart were the children of Zola and whoever she was having an affair with at the time. That I was the son of Balcus and Luce meant that we were not even related.
But we were what the nation had deemed 'Good brothers and sisters'. Which was code for 'our family unit is so inherently broken that marriage might as well not exist.' -Which admittedly was the fault of both men and women having affairs on eachother, women's were just much more legal and based around slavery.
While in the case of Zola and my Dad, Zola was clearly an evil old hag. It didn't escape me that my Dad had two wives and that was just somehow okay, while a woman could not marry more than once. Though my Dad would be horribly judged for having any affairs with other women and it was a social stigma if he took a bed-slave.
It was a weird system, and broken. It favored women a bit more than men, since marriage meant that anyone that a man loved could rob him through divorce, whereas the affairs of women were recognized as casual activity.
-But back in the present, Merce had just implied my mother, Luce, was having an affair and that Balcus was not my Dad, the little smirk on her face told me that it was far from an accidental implication.
I felt like punching the little hypocritical goblin. The audacity to imply that about my parent's relationship, which was stable despite everything Zola did to sabotage it. From sneering remarks, to writing Luce out of every inheritance she could have gotten.
For a moment I clenched my fists and pictured it, I could break her nose right then and there and mop up the elf and Lutart afterwards with the wooden sword. It'd teach her a lesson that's for sure. But as I stared at her and raged about the hypocrisy, running that state around in circles that I thought about it again.
'Luce and Balcus are stable, good people who don't deserve that badmouthing… and Zola isn't.
Slowly, a pitying look came over my face before I could stop it. She was jealous of us. Of the happy family that we were when her hag of a mother wasn't around. Even favored as she was, I realized that she completely lacked the camaraderie that Nicks and I shared. One look at Lutart's practiced mask of a sneer directed us told me the rest.
It was easy to pity Lutart who was a victim of the same crap we were. But in a way, Merce's shitty behavior and treatment of him was as much a disservice to her as it was to him. In bullying and belittling him, she belittled herself and on some unconscious level she realized that.
Nicks however-who lacked the perspective that 20 years of life in a society with psychology gave- did not realize this and so he was seething as he got up and advanced threateningly. "If you think tha-
He was caught off when I threw an elbow into his stomach and he wheezed and fell over giving me a betrayed look.
"You have my sympathy, Good-sister Merce." I spoke in a soft tone. Of course her face scrunched up in fury at the complete lack of effect she'd seemingly had on me. She practically exploded and I recognized the signs of someone who was taking out her own pain on someone else.
"Ugh!Not only do you disgust me Leon Bartfort. -Worse, you are a simpleton and a bore. I pity whoever is forced to marry a mud-covered peasant like you." she hissed all this out at me before she stomped away furiously. "-Hurry up Kale!" she snapped at her slave who hastily followed after her.
Lutart hesitated, his sister's sudden anger having surprised everyone except me. Because of that he remained for a moment, staring after her and I decided to speak up.
-While I couldn't say that this revelation made me feel any less disdain for Merce I felt a stab of pity for him that he was trapped in such an awful family. At least that was why I think I impulsively blurted out the question once Merce was out of earshot.
"Care to spar with us Lutart?" I asked even as Nicks gave me a thoroughly irritated look. The blonde eleven year old turned to me with a surprised look on his face.
"Tch. Spar? With an untrained dirt farmer?" he asked, raising a brow at me, that arrogant mask back in place. But he was a little too young, and a little too insecure to fool me, and I could tell he was uncertain… uncertain and hopeful?
I think a part of me wanted to spite Zola and Merce by showing Lutart what family could be… what it should be.
"Yep. What's the matter? You scared you gonna lose?" I taunted him playfully with a grin on my face before tossing my wooden practice sword at him, taking the choice out of his hands.
Lutart caught it with only a slight fumble Before giving me a glare while Nicks grabbed onto my hand and pulled himself up. His residual anger from me stopping him before now replaced with confusion.
"Leo, what are you doing?" he asked in a hushed whisper as he passed me his training sword. I could tell that he was mostly confused as he thought I was going to take out my anger on Lutart, which was odd considering I just stopped him from doing the same with Merce.
"Honestly?" I began and paused for a moment. "I think it'll be good for us to spar with other people and not just each other." He gave me a look that told me he knew that bullshit. It wasn't a complete lie but it wasn't the primary reason why.
But I doubt he'd like 'this kid needs a friend' as a reason.
"Well? Are you getting cold feet Bartfort?" Lutart asked with a mocking tone and a condescending sneer on his face. He'd evidently decided to pretend that this was his idea in order to preserve his delicate little ego. Nicks turned to me and gave me an amused look before backing off.
"Alright, how about till one of us gives up, or takes a hit that'd be fatal with steel." I offered and Lutart thought it over.
"I accept." He said before settling into a duelist's pose. It wasn't… awful per say, but it was the wrong pose with anything other than a light rapier, or a dueling saber.
I took his measure for a moment before bringing my sword up into a high-guard position, the crossguard near my face, my blade angled towards him.
Lutart took in the pose and smirked, having never seen it before from all his 'swords' tutoring that I'm sure Zola paid for. Sadly for him, he had probably gotten only a few lessons in before getting bored and Zola's cheapskate behavior got involved. I on the other hand had Dad teaching us tricks and tips, and more importantly had been training almost daily for the past few years.
He advanced on me and stabbed his blade forward in what could have been a graceful motion, but the heft and weight of a long-sword meant he was off balance and I slapped aside the attempt easily with my own sword and a satisfying 'SHWACK!' of wood on wood. As he staggered, completely open I stepped forward and brought the 'blade' of my training sword up to his neck in what would have been a throat cutting motion.
His eyes were equal parts frustration, confusion, and fury at what was clearly his loss in only seconds. Instead of taunting him though I gave him a gentle smile.
"That's a good stance, but longswords are heavier than rapiers." I offered and for a moment I thought the friendly advice was going to make him lash out at me and stomp off like his sister.
Instead he thought for a moment and pulled back. There was a pause, a clear moment where he was faced with a crossroads, did he take the olive branch I offered? Or did he act like his sister and Mother? I think that thought was the one that got him to make his choice as he looked at me for the first time with anything that wasn't arrogance in his gaze.
"-I ah … Then what stance would suit longswords better?"
Nicks fell over from where he was sitting in absolute shock. My gentle shy smile turned into a broad grin. Gods above, I loved being right.
XXXXX
It was in the summer of my thirteenth year that things went wrong. I hadn't even had the chance to make it to the 'real plot' when events already started to diverge. I hoped vaguely that it wasn't my fault for the changes. But bitterly I knew there could be no other reason.
Maybe I was a bit too eager to avoid Zola and her kids, or maybe I was too much of a firebrand and pissed her off. Or maybe my fiery personality rubbed off on Nicks who didn't watch his mouth as much as he should have. Or hell it could be the influence we had both had on Lutart who now was quiet and reserved as opposed to an arrogant brat. He also, was pleasant to hang around with, and I'd go as far as to call him my closest friend who wasn't one of my directly related brothers.
-But whatever the case was, somehow my differences in behavior to the original Leon meant that I'd inadvertently ruined Nick's life.
That's right. My poor older brother was being shipped off to the military. Zola made it no secret that she would not be spending a dime of her money on sending him to the academy. I also knew that this meant I was definitely going to be sold off as little more than a disposable sex slave to some 60 year old hag when I came of age.
I shuddered at the thought. I was only 13, but I knew I had to take action. I was grateful that Nicks at least wasn't being married off, I suspected that Zola hadn't joined that fancy club of vicious, old, misandrists- well, not yet.
I was a guilty wreck for a few days until I thought about it logically. Nicks was smart, fit, and clever enough to avoid being killed in combat. Furthermore, from what I remembered he had ended up in a miserable marriage after going to the academy, so if he didn't die a senseless death Nicks may end up happier like this in the end.
My Dad on the other hand, was furious about this but trapped. He and Zola had made an agreement with their marriage, but she apparently didn't care to honor even that. He could have gone to the royal court to annul the marriage on these grounds since it was part of the contract that his children would be able to attend the academy. But if he did it would land us back in the financial woes that his father had battled.
I grit my teeth. Just one more year and I'd be seen as an adult. One that could become a legal adventurer, legally emancipated and who's loot was untouchable by anyone else including my bitch step-mother.
I threw myself into training, I was determined to fight for a happy life not just for me, but for my family as well.
XXXXX
The day after my birthday, after a small but loving celebration we'd thrown, I told my Dad and mother of my plans. I was in the field with him that evening, watching the clouds together which had slowly become a habit we indulged in after a long day of toil, training, and studying.
"Son…" Balcus began, his eyes looking more drawn and tired than ever. "Being an adventurer, it's a dangerous life. I know that our life is difficult and tedious but-"
"-But what? Should I just ignore what happened to my brother?" I interrupted and his face grew a little angry. I raised my hand reassuringly. "Dad... If it was just our family living a simple, peaceful life I'd stay." I glared angrily at the sky. "But, that is not our life. Every day I stay, Zola… that old hag-" his eyes looked to me in alarm before looking around to make sure that nobody was around to overhear me bad mouthing the noblewoman. "-she has more time to arrange a military contract. Or worse. She may have started to shop around for a betrothal contract for one of her friends." I said, hatred lacing my tone.
"Son, I know you dislike her but-"
"She's trying to get Nicks killed Dad." I said with desperation in my tone. "Sure you arranged for his first tour to be guard duty in the capital. But it's coming to a close soon and we both know she's been pushing for him to 'find glory' in the borderlands." I hated her. Gods above I hated her. "At least this way, if I die, I die standing on my feet. A free man." I said sitting up, my fists clenched.
He sat up as well looking at me sadly, he then sighed. "You know… your mother and I both suspected you'd choose this path." he said with a wistful smile. "We both knew… that you're too much of a fighter for our life as farmers. Too much of a free-thinker for the military." He chuckled gently, it was a warm comforting sound. "-and far, far too prideful to stay under Zola's thumb. I just... I just wished you'd give us more time. You're our son and we love you." he said gently.
I smiled sadly now as well. "I love you both as well, dad. But the longer I stay… the longer I'm technically an 'unemployed bachelor…" I trailed off and he nodded his head.
"The more time she has to throw you away to the wolves." he said and I could hear it in his voice as well. He too hated her. Hated the way she was going to ruin the lives of his children. Was his own life not enough? Did she truly need to sell his children to war, to slavery, and profit off their very deaths? At the moment I knew Balcus Fou Bartfort hated his wife almost as much as I did. Likely, even more than I did.
I left the next day at dawn. My Dad, bless him, arranged for my own little airship. It was a small thing, rickety and unstable and other, higher nobility would have turned their noses at it. Me? I nearly cried when I saw how much he and my mother had saved up for it. I even was given a brace of weapons, two older models of handguns that resembled flintlocks but at least had a repeating design so I could fire thrice before having to powder them. That and a sturdy sword, I'd thought about asking for an elemental grenade that I knew I'd be able to use to get the Luxon ship. But I had a major issue as I opened up and unfolded the map I'd saved up for years ago and got the idea of pegging down different locations.
Leon from the anime had suffered, scrimped, and played through every single section of the game. But me? I hadn't a fucking clue where the Luxon could be found. I knew it had something to do with a whirlpool and it was out in the dangerous borderlands where nobody had yet claimed territory.
It bears mentioning that this world was, well, very odd. There was the kingdom of Holfort itself, which was easiest described as similar to the structure of a solar system with the capital as its 'star'. The territories were arranged in rings around the capital, wealth and respect was easily gauged by how close one was to the massive metropolitan center at the heart of the empire. There were exceptions of course, but as one got further out from the capital, and closer to the border territories, people got poorer.
My family wasn't so close to the borderlands that we had to worry about sky-pirates or skirmishes with other power-hungry nobles, but we were far from rich, barely scraping into the 'mediocre and forgettable' category of noble not that many would make that distinction.
The borderlands themselves? They were uncolonized lands full of opportunity, and of course, full of death and danger. From wildlife that was as varied as they were unpredictable, to hurricane like storms, to pirates and brigands carving out their own little warlord empires here, it was evident why many saw adventuring as a death sentence.
At the same time, adventurers were the ones who discovered resources, gold, other nations to trade with, and expanded the kingdom's influence so the rewards for such risks were great.
My eyes narrowed and I swallowed down my fears. Regardless of my worries, I had to succeed here… I wouldn't call myself brave or valiant by any means, make no mistake I was only in this position out of necessity. I just hoped that if I did die and reincarnate, it would be in a kinder world than the one I was currently in.
This is one of six starter stories I'm releasing in order to promote my P*a*t*r*e*o*n! Only 2-3 of them will get updates beyond five chapters though, so if you'd like to have your voice heard, head there! Also the next two chapters are available on my P*a*t*r*e*o*n at least 2 weeks ahead of time so if you want more, now? It is available.