“Thank you for the meal.”
It was a satisfying meal.
Eating something warm seemed to have eased my cold a bit, too.
I felt much more alive than before, as though I could do anything right now.
“First, let’s put away the leftovers.”
I put the remaining food back into the pot and covered it with the lid to keep it warm.
The amount of ABC soup (or rather, steamed fruit) turned out to be more than I could finish in one sitting.
“It should be fine left like this, right?”
Since I planned to finish it by the end of the day, I convinced myself it wouldn’t spoil.
“Ugh…!”
After setting the pot aside, I stretched out my stiff body.
Crouching awkwardly all night had left me feeling tense.
Being in this young body, however, there were no creaking joints to worry about.
Instead, the only sound was the faint jiggle of my now-round belly.
“…Yawn. I’m already sleepy again.”
No sooner had I finished stretching than a wave of fatigue washed over me.
It seemed like post-meal drowsiness—something I’d heard children were prone to.
Turns out, it was true.
But I couldn’t let myself sleep.
There was still a mountain of tasks waiting to be done, and giving in to sleepiness now was not an option.
“Ugh, come on…”
I slapped my cheeks lightly to wake myself up and even stretched my thighs, hoping the movement would help.
But instead of pain, all I felt was a soft, squishy sensation.
“…Guess I’ll get to work.”
Staying indoors was making me sleepy.
Maybe chopping some firewood outside would help me shake off the drowsiness.
With that thought in mind, I rubbed my sleepy eyes and trudged out of the house.
“Yawn…”
A small workspace located behind the orphanage.
Calling it a “workspace” felt a bit odd, but I couldn’t think of a better name, so that’s what I went with.
This area consisted of three things.
The small well I had visited earlier while making the ABC soup.
A pile of large logs stacked in the center.
A designated spot for chopping firewood, complete with a small axe embedded in a chopping block.
The axe caught my eye—it seemed like it was meant for chopping wood.
Time to take a closer look.
“Oh, the axe is in pretty good condition.”
To my surprise, the axe was in better shape than I expected.
Though it was caked in dirt, a quick brush-off with my hand revealed that it was intact, clean, and perfectly usable.
“Alright, let’s try chopping some firewood!”
With my belly full and the sunlight feeling twice as warm, it seemed like the perfect day to get some work done.
I rolled up my sleeves, flexed my arms, and tried to show off some biceps.
“…None. Not even a little.”
To be precise, I tried to flex, but no matter how hard I strained, all I saw was my pudgy, raccoon-like belly bouncing up.
Not even the tiniest hint of muscle bulged on my soft, stubby arms.
“That’s a little depressing.”
It would’ve been nice if my arms weren’t so squishy and short, with even a hint of firmness.
But hey, chopping firewood wasn’t just about strength—it was about skill and technique, right? At least, that’s what I told myself.
“Of course, this is my first time chopping wood…”
Imagining myself effortlessly splitting logs with dramatic swings of the axe, I strode confidently toward the pile of wood.
I grabbed the smallest, lightest log I could find and tried to drag it over.
Drag it…
Drag it…
“Why is this so heavy?!”
“What… what the heck?”
Why is this so heavy? Something must be wrong.
“Urgh… come on… nghhhh…!”
Something definitely felt off.
The log was only about half my size, a small one by all appearances.
Yet, no matter how hard I pulled, it refused to budge, standing firm in its place like an immovable object.
“Forget it—I’ll just chop it here.”
After wrestling with the log for what felt like ages, I gave up on moving it and decided to chop it right where it sat.
“Alright… one, two… three!”
THWACK!
With a spirited shout, I swung the axe down onto the log.
It was a merciless blow.
So merciless, in fact, that I was trembling from the force of the swing.
“Wow…”
A sense of awe escaped my lips.
Sure, the log didn’t even crack, not even a tiny fracture—but the fact that I managed to hit it dead-center without missing was already an incredible achievement in my book.
“I did it!”
“Alright, let’s keep this momentum going!”
“One, two… three!”
Wait.
“…Where’s the blade?”
What? Why does the axe have… a bald head now?
Where did the blade go?
CLANG!
The sound came from somewhere nearby.
…Oh no.
The absurdity of the situation—that the axe blade had disappeared—left me stunned for only a moment.
Then, I heard a foreboding clang from the direction of the orphanage.
Instinctively, I turned my head.
And there it was.
“…Oh.”
The only intact window in the entire orphanage—the one window that had miraculously survived all these years—was now shattered.
Its pristine glass had been torn apart by the axe blade.
As expected, the blade lived up to its “merciless” reputation.
“…Now it’s going to be twice as cold at night.”
Truly, nothing seemed to go right.
Meanwhile, the usual peaceful morning in Maru Village was anything but.
The villagers had gathered early, their chatter creating a lively buzz.
“Did you see her yesterday? That little girl with the snow-white hair? She wasn’t even half my height!”
“Oh, I saw her! She zipped around the market like she was in a hurry. Seemed busy.”
“She’s new around here, right? Where could she have come from?”
“…Could she be a spy from another country?!”
“Oh, come on! That’s ridiculous! A kid, a spy? You’ve got too much imagination.”
“Well, you never know!”
The reason for their morning gossip was none other than the mysterious white-haired girl—me—who had visited the market the previous day.
For the residents of Maru Village, whose only visitors were usually passing peddlers, the sudden appearance of an unfamiliar child was a source of immense curiosity.
Some of the villagers, wary of outsiders, speculated wildly, calling her everything from a spy from a foreign nation to a wicked witch.
“Hey, Alex! You saw the girl, right? You even talked to her!”
“Yeah, I gave her a skewer since she was staring at them so hard. She looked like some noble family’s kid with her fancy hair, but, uh… the way she acted… let’s just say, you don’t need to worry about her being a spy or anything.”
Alex dismissed the concerns with a chuckle, describing her as a little too… naive and scatterbrained to pose any real threat.
“Oh, right! Even from far away, you could see how much that kid was enjoying the skewer. She was so into it that I nearly forgot I was running a stall.”
Thanks to Alex’s firsthand account of interacting with the girl, the villagers’ wild suspicions were quickly dismissed as baseless nonsense.
“If you’d seen her face even once, you wouldn’t be saying such ridiculous things.”
“What does she look like, then?”
“She’s got such a delicate face for a kid. Fancy clothes, flawless skin—at first, I thought she might’ve been from some noble family.”
“Ugh, I should’ve gone to the market yesterday!”
However, due to the lack of real information about the girl, the conversation soon veered off into speculation.
“Come to think of it, she said she lives in that old orphanage up on the hill.”
“The orphanage? That place has been abandoned for ages.”
“She said she’s the head of the orphanage.”
And thus, a rumor began to spread.
Rumors, as always, start with a small truth before spiraling into something else entirely.
“So, she’s the owner of that building? A kid? Really?”
“That’s what it seems like…”
“Wait, hold on. Hekson, didn’t you mention a noble family going under recently?”
“Oh, right. I heard one of the villages on the empire’s frontlines was attacked by demons. A noble family might’ve been wiped out in the chaos.”
The villagers’ curiosity turned toward trying to connect the girl to the mysterious events they’d heard about from afar, linking her presence to potential tragedies or noble families.
“That’s right! The noble family that governed that village was completely ruined by the attack!”
And so, as the story was passed from person to person, truth and fiction became tangled and exaggerated into something else entirely.
“The attack happened about a month ago… wait, could it be…!”
“I heard that noble family was completely wiped out by the demons, and the survivors scattered.”
“Now that you mention it, her clothes did look like they were made of really fine material. Could the orphanage be…?”
“Maybe it’s the last gift left behind by her family?”
“Dear heavens, that’s so tragic!”
In the end, the villagers concocted an improbable “truth” about the mysterious white-haired girl.
“Shh! Let’s keep this story just between us.”
“Good idea. It’s heartbreaking, but we mustn’t let it spread further.”
Satisfied with their own invented tale of the noble girl’s tragic past, the villagers agreed to keep it a secret and returned to their daily routines.
Just as they were about to disperse, a voice carried over from the hill where the orphanage was located.
“Ugh, why is this so heavy…!”
Struggling under the weight of a small log on her back, the white-haired girl, glistening with sweat, was making her way toward the village.
Even those who had seen her the day before were stunned again by her delicate, doll-like appearance, and those seeing her for the first time were equally shocked.
“There she is! That’s her!”
“Don’t overwork yourself, little one! This skewer guy will come help!”
“I’ll help too!”
“Wha—what?! Why is everyone running over here?!”
The tiny girl, barely able to manage a log as thick as her own arm, flailed in panic as villagers rushed toward her from all directions.
“Are they trying to steal my log…? Get away from me!”
“Hand it over!”
“Let this kind uncle carry it for you!”
“No! Stop it! Don’t touch it!!”
The star of the rumors had made her grand entrance, turning the morning into a chaotic spectacle for the entire village.