Living as a Recluse Deep in the Forest - Episode 7: Return to the Royal Capital

The night in the royal capital was buzzing.

Until a short while ago, a banquet had been held in the Great Hall of the Royal Palace—a banquet of immense significance, one that could very well determine the future of the nation. The event had already concluded. The current commotion was merely its lingering afterglow.

Amidst this atmosphere, a group with a distinctly different air gathered in a room within the castle.

The "Great Demon Forest Expeditionary Force" led by Aurora.

Guards.

Maids.

They all turned together to face Aurora, who stood in the center of the room.

"Your Highness—thank you for your hard work."

Everyone bowed in unison.

It wasn't a mere formal gesture. It was heartfelt appreciation for the Second Princess, who had successfully navigated the banquet with a foreign nation. Aurora let out a soft breath and relaxed her shoulders. A sense of relief washed over her from the bottom of her heart. At the same time, a feeling of gratitude surfaced—toward Yuu, the sage still living in the forest.

And she remembered. The day she and her group returned from the Great Demon Forest.

By the time the gates of the Royal Capital came into view, the sky was already beginning to be dyed in a faint orange.

Having emerged from the Great Demon Forest and continued southward, Aurora’s party returned to the capital without a single major crisis, thanks to the protection of the Force Field.

"Your Highness, I know you must be exhausted, but..."

A member of the Imperial Guard riding alongside her spoke up apologetically.

"I know. We’re heading straight to the palace," Aurora replied shortly.

This was not the time for a long soak in the bath. She needed to bring the advice of Yuu—the Sage of the Mountain—to the halls of government as quickly as possible.

They passed through the city gates and headed directly to the palace. The moment she dismounted, she dismissed the approaching attendants with a wave of her hand and walked unhesitatingly into the depths of the castle. Her destination: the room where the nobles in charge of foreign diplomacy were stationed. It was the place where, before departing for the Demon Forest, she had informed them she would "seek counsel from a sage."

As she stood before the heavy doors, she could hear voices leaking from within.

"...But isn't serving only fish too simplistic?"

"Even so, changing the main course now would be..."

"Serving no beef might be disrespectful to our guests—"

When she opened the door, she found several nobles gathered in a lavish meeting room, the table cluttered with papers that looked like menu drafts. The faces present belonged to the heads of the diplomatic earldom, the high nobility in charge of catering, and an old marquis known for his strictness regarding etiquette—all of whom could be called the "faces" of the nation. However, their expressions were uniformly clouded. Apparently, the menu for the banquet to welcome the foreign envoys had yet to be finalized.

Their impatience was justified. No matter how skilled a chef might be, time and ingredients were not infinite. Normally, the menu should have been set long ago. The banquet was fast approaching. Aurora took in the situation at a glance and spoke without hesitation.

"—Go and ask about their Taboos."

The tense air vibrated.

"Princess Aurora!"

She gestured for the rising nobles to stay seated.

"I am telling you to ask for their 'taboos.' Not their preferences—their taboos."

Aurora stared straight at the table.

"We already know that communication is difficult. If that is the case—show them images of livestock. Drawings will do. Determine immediately what they avoid and what their staple food is."

One of the nobles opened his mouth tentatively.

"We have already identified their likes and dislikes to some extent, Your Highness. We are agonizing over the dishes based on that information..."

"Is that truly just a matter of 'likes and dislikes'?" Aurora's voice dropped to a low tone. "...It is something that could potentially escalate into a massacre."

The room stirred. Some widened their eyes; others turned pale; some knitted their brows in suspicion.

"S-surely, it wouldn't go that far—"

"It would," Aurora stated firmly. "The Sage said so."

The room fell silent. Aurora continued slowly.

"He said it is highly likely that religion is deeply rooted in the lives of those from the foreign nation across the sea. That there may be commandments—'this is allowed, this is forbidden'—for everything they eat and wear."

Their kingdom was broad-minded when it came to food. Livestock was livestock. Their stance was to eat what was edible with gratitude. While they respected the gods, they had few taboos regarding what must absolutely never be consumed.

"But how can we be sure the same applies across the sea?" Aurora snapped sharply. "The Sage said: 'An act considered most sacred in one's own country may be a loathsome act in another.'"

The sound of several nobles swallowing hard filled the room.

"If we were to place their 'taboo' on the table by mistake—blood could be shed. This isn't about preference. It touches the very core of their faith and pride."

The ambition of "making it a grand feast" that had filled the room was instantly replaced by a grim realization. Aurora continued.

"The Sage was able to guess the climate and local specialties of that country just by looking at copies of their documents and the characteristics of their clothing."

At that, the nobles were startled. When Aurora had mentioned the Sage—a man claiming to be a Great Sage in the forest—before leaving, some had been skeptical of his insight. But now, there was not a hint of doubt in Aurora's tone.

"His knowledge is worthy of trust."

Aurora looked around at each of their faces.

"Take action immediately. This is a meeting with people we cannot properly communicate with. What we should aim for is not the 'best hospitality,' but 'avoiding the worst outcome.'"

Before competing for the best, avoid the fatal landmines.

"That is the Sage's advice."

A few seconds of silence followed. It was broken by the young head of a count's family.

"...Understood!"

He pushed back his chair and bowed deeply.

"I will immediately have drawings of livestock prepared. Cows, pigs, sheep, goats, chickens... as many as possible."

"I will bring my family's translators. We will use every gesture possible to gauge their reactions."

"I must inform the kitchen. We have no choice but to scrap the entire menu for now."

The nobles scattered in a flurry. Aurora finally exhaled and turned her eyes to the old man remaining by her side. He had white hair and deep wrinkles, but his gaze was sharp. He was the old Marquis who had supported the country's foreign policy for many years.

"...Your Highness," the old man asked in a gentle voice. "Did the Sage really deduce that much?"

"Yes." Aurora nodded. She handed a document to the Marquis. It contained Yuu’s words, a list of precautions, and predicted cultural traits of the foreign nation. The Marquis began flipping through the papers. As he did, Aurora spoke.

"All the Sage saw were copies of their writing and the clothes they wore."

Sandy-colored fabric. Garments that covered much of the body. Designs meant to combat heat and sand.

"From that, he deduced that the land across the sea is dry, with a climate full of deserts. He also predicted their cargo would be pepper and spices."

The old man's lips curled slightly. "...I am amazed."

The Marquis placed the document on the edge of the desk. Though he had only skimmed it, his face was full of wonder.

"Thanks to the translators, we are finally beginning to grasp their political system, climate, and key trade points... and much of it overlaps with the words of this Sage you speak of."

"That much?"

"I would say it matches about eighty percent."

Eighty percent. The remaining twenty percent was due to the existence of "Magic," which was unique to this world. What might be called a mysterious power on Earth was a natural part of existence here, causing subtle differences in the details of national development and political structures.

However—

"The main points are exactly as the Sage pointed out." The Marquis exhaled deeply. "If Your Highness had not brought us this perspective of 'dietary taboos'... we might never have thought of it."

"...I see."

Aurora felt a chill in her chest. If she hadn't met Yuu. If she hadn't heard his explanation in that forest. She certainly would have prepared the banquet by forcing her own country's common sense onto the foreigners. Beef is a luxury. For noble guests, serve the finest beef. Without a doubt, they would have placed a magnificent roasted whole cow in the center of the table...

(...That was close.)

A shiver ran down her spine. It was then—

"Pardon me!"

The door was thrown open roughly, and a noble came rushing in, panting for breath with sweat on his forehead. It was the young Count who had hurried out earlier.

"What is it?" The Marquis frowned.

"I showed them... the drawings of the livestock." The Count knelt before Aurora before he could even catch his breath. "Your Highness... if not for your words...!"

There were faint tears in his eyes.

"Calm down. What happened?"

At Aurora's prompting, the Count continued in a trembling voice.

"The moment I showed them the drawing of a cow—the foreigners began to offer prayers."

The air in the room froze.

"Prayers?"

"Yes. In front of the drawing of the cow, they quietly bowed their heads and began chanting something." The Count’s voice was laced with clear agitation. "They were so solemn... I could tell at a glance they were praying sincerely, from the bottom of their hearts. Even to an amateur, it was obvious that it was not just 'livestock' to them."

The Count clenched his hands. They were shaking. Pure terror was evident.

"It was... it was not something that could ever be displayed on a dining table. Much less carved up and served—the very thought makes my blood run cold."

Someone gasped softly. Aurora quietly closed her eyes. Yuu’s voice echoed in her mind.

'If you unknowingly serve a country's taboo at the table, it’s the kind of thing that can start a war.'

So this was it.

"Your Highness..." The Count bowed his head, his voice tearful. "If not for your warning, we would have narrowly escaped... carving up something sacred right in front of our guests."

The old Marquis also bowed his head deeply. "This time, we truly owe the Sage and Your Highness our lives."

Aurora exhaled slowly. The image of the black-haired young man sitting casually in a log house in the middle of the forest, saying "It might be a country where religion is rooted in daily life," floated through her mind.

(...It really saved us.)

A danger that no one in this world had noticed was pointed out by a "hermit" from another world. Because of that—while there was no guarantee they would avoid all friction—at least one "worst-case scenario" had been averted. Aurora opened her eyes.

"It is too early for thanks. The banquet is still to come. Whether the Sage’s advice is put to good use or wasted depends on us."

Even so, she added in her heart: (Yuu. Because of your words, lives will surely be saved.)

She tucked that fact away quietly in the depths of her heart.

A few days later. The banquet welcoming the foreign guests.

Speech was halting, and even with translators, subtle misunderstandings occurred. Of course, Aurora attended in a gown to welcome the envoys, but communication wasn't exactly smooth. Yet, Aurora did not give up. She used every smile and gesture she could muster to convey that they had "no hostile intent."

How many times did she recall Yuu's words?

'Sincerity actually resonates more than flowery words, you know. Even if the language doesn't get through, feelings can. In meetings with foreign countries, there might be things more important than elegance or dignity.'

His face also came to mind, scratching his head looking a bit embarrassed.

'I guarantee it... I, who have experienced a certain someone's persistent visits, can vouch for that.'

Recalling that, Aurora couldn't help but let her lips curl into a smile. A goofy one. Her maids gave her a look that said, "There it is."

(...I shouldn't.)

Realizing it herself, she hurriedly straightened her expression.

"At any rate—for now, the meeting with the foreign nation has ended safely." Aurora announced, looking around at everyone's faces. "There is still a long way to go, and we cannot let our guard down. Honestly, from here on, I’ll have to rely on the diplomats... but at least we haven't left a bad impression."

A scene from the banquet flashed through her mind. The representative of the foreign nation—a middle-aged man clad in sandy-colored robes. In broken Kingdom speech, he had conveyed his gratitude, however clumsily.

"Cow... not served. I thank you."

He had chosen his words slowly, placing his hand over his chest and bowing his head. The fact that they didn't serve beef. The fact that they tried to respect their country's "way of eating." They had certainly perceived that effort.

Of course, there were sailors who frowned at the Kingdom's cuisine. Some made visible grimaces when they learned that this country did eat beef.

But—if they had made the "worst choice," proudly serving a whole roasted sacred being to them.

It wouldn't have ended with just a frown. Shouts would have flown, cups would have been smashed, and blades might have been drawn. Blood truly could have been shed.

(...It’s thanks to Yuu.)

She whispered to herself. The banquet wasn't a total failure. There were sailors who were moved to tears, happy that despite having a culture of eating beef, the Kingdom had tried to respect another's taboos.

The hand of friendship hadn't vanished yet.

"Now then, let us move on to the next agenda item."

Aurora cleared her throat to change the mood, and a civil official waiting in the corner of the room stepped forward. In his hand was a familiar magic tool: a base that looked like a small stone tablet with a transparent crystal resting on top. It was a Magic Measurement Device that read a person's magical power upon touch and displayed their "Level" as a numerical value.

"Time for the measurement," she said.

The maids' expressions tightened slightly. The guards' eyes took on a spark of quiet fighting spirit. It had become a habit to do this periodically ever since returning from the Great Demon Forest. That Great Sea of Trees was a den of ferocious monsters. Traversing it and returning was proof of having survived many brushes with death.

And every time that happened—people grew stronger.

The heroes of old were the same. Documents recorded that their "Levels" would jump every time they fought a war or crossed the line between life and death.

"Guards first, then."

The first person placed their hand on the device. A faint light glowed. A number appeared inside the crystal.

"41."

"Ooh..." A small murmur of admiration escaped the room.

The second person: "42."

The third: "40."

The fourth: "43."

Every time they measured, the number naturally exceeded "40."

Average citizens were between 1–10. Those confident in their strength were 10–15. Soldiers were around 20. Only the most elite in the country reached 30. Generals and Magic Marshals were at 40. Now, every single guard was on par with the "General Class."

"I felt my strength rising every time we came back alive... but to think it’s over forty," someone muttered, drawing wry smiles from the others. Ordinarily, this would be a legendary feat... but for them, it had become just another joke.

"Maid squad, if you please."

At the official’s voice, the maids stepped forward in order.

The first: "37."

The second: "39."

The third: "35."

Even the lowest value was 35. The title of "Maid to the Princess" was gradually starting to take on a very different meaning.

"...What exactly is a 'maid's skill' supposed to be?"

"Isn't 'maid' just an excuse, and your real profession is 'knight'?"

The maids gave the whispering guards a sideways glance.

"An elite princess's maid must be able to handle both housework and combat."

"Exactly, exactly."

Half-joking, half-serious. Once everyone was finished, only one person remained.

"Now, Your Highness." The official made a gesture as if carefully polishing the crystal.

Aurora took one deep breath. She removed her glove and gently placed her bare hand on the crystal. A quiet light emanated. A few seconds later, a number surfaced within the crystal.

"..."

The official, the owner of the device, was the first to gasp.

"Wh-what is it?" A guard hurriedly peered in. The value displayed there was—

"Level... 59."

The air in the room changed instantly.

"Fifty... nine," someone repeated breathlessly.

Those who exceeded Level 50, considered "Hero Class," could be counted on one hand in the country's history. 'If someone reaches 50, they are Hero Class.' That was the common knowledge of this world. Right now, Aurora was even "beyond" that.

The realm where 60 was within reach. She had completely stepped into the level that carves one's name into legend.

"Your Highness..." An experienced guard was at a loss for words.

"We're all in the 40s, technically..."

"When you're shown a difference in caliber like this, it’s actually refreshing."

"No, Your Highness, from now on, please rely on us guards a bit more..."

"What are you saying? Without you all, I couldn't even leave my back unguarded."

Aurora said it nonchalantly, but the guards' inner feelings were now a mix of "Are we protecting her, or is she protecting us?" Level 59. As a national military asset, her existence was a definitive "trump card."

...But the moment they saw that number, a question popped into everyone's mind simultaneously.

(I wonder what Yuu-dono's level is...)

Just how high was that man's level? A heat ray that could pierce a dragon's body in one hit. A powerful barrier that created a safe living space. The skill to perform insane magical control just to cook a meal. Even if the current Aurora challenged him in earnest—no, even if she mobilized all the guards and maids for an all-out war.

(I can't see a single scenario where we win.)

Everyone had come to that conclusion.

"He could easily be Level 70, couldn't he..."

"Maybe 80... no." One of the guards joked. "An unprecedented 'over 90' might not be impossible."

"Stop it, don't say such unlucky things. 90 is just a theoretical value."

"That's right. If he were really 90, the very yardstick of power in this world would go crazy."

They laughed, but the laughter was somewhat strained. A brief silence followed. No one tried to voice the question. Not a single person here could say to Yuu, "Would you like to try measuring?"

They wanted to know. But—they didn't want to know.

What if the digits were different? What if it was a number that turned their feeling of "having become strong" into a joke?

(...Too scary.)

The guards, the maids, and Aurora herself all felt that way deep down.

"Right."

Aurora clapped her hands to break the silence. "That's it for the level check. You all did well." She straightened her face and issued the next order. "The next forest exploration is in two weeks! Everyone, manage your health strictly until then!"

"Roger!"

Vigorous responses echoed in the room. The official packed away the measurement device, and the maids organized the documents. The conversation shifted toward confirming the next route, supplies, and logistics.

The topic of Yuu's level remained untouched.

Let sleeping gods lie. Ignorance is bliss. Regarding the full extent of the "Sage's" power, which was both terrifying and incredibly reliable—

Aurora’s party had implicitly agreed on a policy of continuing to look away with all their might.

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