Where Is the Hero
Building a rabbit pen with cut wood would take too much time. That was why Juhwan thought of using bamboo—and unexpectedly, it worked very well. By driving the bamboo tightly into the ground, he created a surprisingly sturdy enclosure.
For the roof and entrance, he tied bamboo together with rope. There were nails in the toolbox, but not many. It was better to save them for later.
For the door, he drilled holes into the bamboo and fitted the pieces together. It felt a bit stiff when opening and closing, but for a first attempt, it wasn’t bad. The frame didn’t align perfectly, leaving a small gap, but as a beginner, that couldn’t be helped. Considering everything, it was practically a masterpiece.
Juhwan admired his work proudly and stretched his back. The sky had already turned a dim reddish hue.
Outside the cabin, a torch stand held a wooden stick wrapped with resin-soaked cloth. Lizzy must have prepared it as it got dark.
Juhwan lit a flame on his fingertip and transferred it to the torch. The size was about the same, but somehow the flame felt stronger—hotter. Practicing magic seemed to be helping.
Still… when would it grow bigger?
It still looked no more than a lighter flame.
No matter how strong a small flame became, it was still small.
A sigh escaped him.
Using the torch, he began building a bamboo fence around the house. Unlike the rabbit pen, this fence was as tall as a person. He dug deep holes and layered bamboo to form a solid barrier.
He couldn’t finish it all at once. For today, he only worked on the front side. Since he had other tasks, it would take several days to complete.
Before he knew it, darkness had fallen completely. From deep within the forest, the sorrowful hoot of an owl echoed several times.
When he entered the house, Dorothy was running around excitedly.
The moment she saw him, her face lit up.
“Daddy! Baby eyes ##! Daddy, baby rabbit eyes ##! Cute!”
She ran toward him but suddenly stopped, as if remembering something.
“Rabbit! Rabbit!”
She turned and dashed back.
Her fluffy hair bounced as she ran on her short legs toward the basket. Carefully, she picked it up with both hands and walked back slowly.
Lizzy, standing by the fireplace, let out a small sigh. Perhaps Dorothy had been running around like this all day, carrying the rabbit back and forth.
Worried she might fall, Juhwan knelt down.
Inside the basket, the baby rabbit was curled up in a corner. Its black eyes sparkled.
“You’re awake.”
Dorothy tilted her head at his words, not understanding.
Juhwan placed his hand on the rabbit and focused, sending magic into it—or at least, he thought he was.
Each time he imagined sending magic and healing, something changed, so it must be working.
The rabbit trembled slightly.
The red wounds, which looked like they had been torn by something sharp, began to fade, the flesh slowly knitting together.
It looked almost like shellfish moving—slightly unsettling.
But Dorothy’s reaction was different.
“Amazing.”
She whispered.
Then she looked up at Juhwan, her eyes filled with admiration.
“Daddy is amazing. Really amazing.”
“….”
Juhwan felt a little happy.
And a little shy.
The baby rabbit was placed back, and the wild rabbit in the wooden tub was moved into the newly built pen outside. For now, they filled a corner with bamboo leaves and straw from under the bed.
After dinner, Dorothy fell asleep, and the house grew quiet.
She must have been exhausted from chasing the rabbit and running errands. When Juhwan lifted her, her head bobbed sleepily.
By the quiet crackling of the fire, Lizzy carefully scraped fat from the rabbit hide with a small knife.
It was a method Gus had taught—removing the fat thinly was key to making good leather.
Lizzy’s face was serious.
Beside her, Juhwan studied the wooden tablets with letters, memorizing them.
At first, Lizzy and Dorothy had shown some interest, but they quickly lost it. Both were more focused on the rabbits—Dorothy on the baby rabbit, Lizzy on the wild one.
Food really is the most important thing.
After learning the letters, he practiced words from other tablets.
Studying at his age made his head ache—but he had no choice.
When he asked Lizzy for meanings, she used gestures to explain:
“Many,” “few,” “all,” “no,” “good.”
Perhaps there had originally been more tablets. If there were a hundred, his vocabulary would grow quickly. It felt like a waste.
Humans were greedy.
At first, escaping the wagon had been enough.
Now he had a home and a family—he wanted more. A city. Knowledge.
Maybe that’s why temptation exists.
For a moment, Santa’s face came to mind—then disappeared.
Meanwhile, Lizzy finished preparing the hide and moved on to sewing.
The fabric she had received had already become Juhwan’s pants and Dorothy’s skirt.
Even when more cloth came, she didn’t make anything for herself until Juhwan insisted.
She never rested.
He wondered if all women here were like that—or if Lizzy was just especially hardworking.
Her thin body was always busy.
He added more firewood to the fireplace so she wouldn’t feel cold.
After working, Lizzy stretched her neck and shoulders.
Juhwan stepped behind her and gently massaged her shoulders.
She flinched, shrinking slightly—it tickled.
At first, it was just a massage…
But his hands slowly grew bolder.
Her pale skin flushed red.
In the flickering firelight, layers of clothing fell away.
Her small body held unexpected warmth and sweetness.
Her eyes shimmered faintly.
Sometimes she made soft, puppy-like sounds.
Always diligent, Lizzy was just as earnest at night.
Like a squirrel gathering acorns, she tried her best—sometimes looking at him as if asking, Am I doing well?
When he responded with a gentle gaze, she smiled happily.
She was adorable.
Perhaps being lovable wasn’t about appearance—but about this kind of nature.
Though, to Juhwan, her appearance was lovable too.
Holding the piece that perfectly fit his incomplete self, Juhwan embraced the warmth she gave him.
Somewhere beyond the deepening night sky, the owl’s cry echoed again.
To reach the large city with the information broker, one first had to go to a village half a day away, then travel another day and a half by scheduled carriage.
Although the village head owned a cart and horse, using the carriage was cheaper when considering time, feed, and lodging.
However, scheduled carriages stopped at multiple villages and required transfers. If timing was off, a whole day could be wasted.
Most ran on schedule—but accidents or problems with drivers sometimes caused delays.
Hoping nothing would go wrong, the village head boarded the rattling carriage.
Three people sat per seat. Being squeezed between large men made his legs and back ache.
If someone got sick, it was even worse.
All this hardship—and I still have to pay the fare and the information broker…
He sighed.
If he could connect with a noble, it would be ideal.
Healing mages were rare—but cities usually had at least one.
However, most could only stop bleeding or slightly speed recovery.
Powerful healers like Juhwan were almost always controlled by nobles.
The village head had doubted such people existed—until he saw Juhwan.
Monsters like that really do exist…
How much could he earn from this information?
Not as much as he first imagined—but maybe a dozen gold coins.
More, if connected to the right noble.
After a long journey, they arrived at a village with lodging.
A ragged boy greeted them.
“Welcome! I’ll guide you to your lodging!”
He led them to a shabby barn.
Inside, people were packed together, sleeping on hay.
Some ate quietly.
“Hot stew! Bread and wine!”
But no one bought anything.
As the village head lay down, he overheard whispers.
Someone spoke of heroes in an enemy nation.
There were two of them.
“What about us? Shouldn’t we summon a hero too?”
Another replied:
“They’ve tried many times… but failed.”
Then, quietly:
“Some say a hero may already have been summoned.”
Others argued.
“Maybe the enemy’s hero is fake.”
“But what if it’s real?”
“They say heroes look different. A fake would be exposed.”
The murmurs grew uneasy.
The village head felt anxious.
I need to sell this information quickly and leave.
He would also need a pass to move to a safer territory.
With that thought, he spent the night in the cold barn.
Before sunrise, the boy returned.
People boarded their carriages again.
By evening—
The village head finally arrived at the city.