**Day 43 Morning Omui Adventurers' Guild**
There is a small village called Shimomui Village. It lies in the farmland downstream from Omui town, a tiny settlement formed when local farmers banded together for self-defense.
Shimomui Village slowly grows, gets raided by monsters, loses people, fields fall fallow, then slowly regrows only to be raided again. Soldiers and adventurers patrol and thin the forest monsters, but the cycle never ends—endless loop for this small village.
They build fences that monsters destroy; spend years starting walls only for floods to collapse them. No proper fence exists in most villages or even towns. Boom times bring budgets, but never enough hands or materials. Monsters surround them in the forest, so even lumber runs short.
But today, a massive lumber shipment arrived. Or rather, the boy who isn't an adventurer but shows up daily saw the lumber request, asked "Lumber sells? Forest everywhere? Seriously?" then left a huge pile of properly dried large beams on credit—"buy it when you can."
They immediately sent word to the lord. The lord bought all the lumber, gathered adventurers and carpenters to build at least fences for nearby villages/towns, starting with closest Shimomui.
But Shimomui Village was already gone. The tiny defenseless village had vanished.
In its place stood a fortress-like town surrounded by sturdy walls. Approaching, the village chief appeared right away and explained what happened—a fairy-tale-like story from some distant land.
They had received report of a dungeon appearing even further downstream from Shimomui. Young dungeon, planned to gather forces and crush it quickly, but manpower shortage left it ignored. Then two days ago, a silver-armored knight with black-cloaked boy appeared. The black-cloaked boy bought all unsellable potatoes, traded for lacking wheat and too-expensive medicine.
The two entered the dungeon.
Yesterday they entered again, returned after hours saying "dungeon is dead," holding the legendary Dungeon King's ring—undeniable. Villagers thanked for potatoes/medicine plus dungeon extermination, gave all farm produce as thanks to the poor village's limit.
Boy accepted happily, placed hand to ground: "Wall, come forth?" One phrase—castle walls rose.
Residents didn't know how to thank such mage, gathered all sellable veggies to give. Boy said thanks for veggies, gave weapons, more medicine/money. Poor village had nothing that valuable, but he smiled "veggies enough." Villagers started gathering meager valuables; he looked troubled, said "thanks for veggies," left. Headed to forest—Demon Forest trees fell one after another, monsters slain instantly, never looked back.
Left behind: magnificent walls. Forest cleared, dungeon gone, cash/wheat plentiful. Learned potato preservation/cooking. Suddenly rich, safe village—everyone happy.
Village chief and people spoke through tears. Hard to believe even seeing it—dreamlike. Yet couldn't even ask name.
Like a story. In this miserable world, such things only in old tales or fairy stories.
Normally, hearing dreamlike tale—laugh as exaggeration or ancient legend.
But can't laugh. Sturdy walls right there.
And know a town that suddenly became happy one day.
So can't laugh.
Above all—strong suspicion who the black-cloaked boy is.
Met him this morning.
Black-cloaked boy definitely said "dungeon died"—meaning unclear but said it. Came to confirm.
And left massive lumber. Boy who cleared nearby monster forest naturally has tons.
Black-cloaked boy said nothing about village, left.
So no one knew.
Like a story.
Surely this tale becomes old story/fairy tale passed down in village.
Joy, gratitude, thanks—with nowhere to go since he left nameless—turns straight into legend. Maybe that's how old tales and fairy stories form.
Surely that boy says nothing.
So this story ends unknown again.
Still, forever told in this village.
If meet in town—surprise, but till then happy fairy tale fine.
Wood-staff great mage actually beats monsters with plain stick—keep quiet.
All because that boy who never speaks, never names himself, never tells.
Let him endure being thanked and turned into story.
As tale of traveling "Black-Clad Great Mage" and "Silver Knight."