Fushi no Kami - Volume 1, Chapter 1

 A book.

It was a book.
It was always books that connected the will.

Throughout history, many tyrants have tried to destroy books. There are even words called vibrio coast, referring to burning books. 

But none have succeeded.
Books were burnt, turned into ash, fell apart, but did not disappear.

Someone kept it in his bosom and saved it from the fire. 
Someone buried it in the soil of their garden, thus avoiding tyrant's eyes. 
Someone hid it in a place they will forget, only to take it out after the fire is extinguished. 

Book has always been there with the brave and passionate rebel that fought the tyrant.

Even today, books are still fighting. It continues to fight the greatest and strongest tyrants that began with the birth of history or with the birth of books.
Time is the name of the ruthless and hard-working tyrant who constantly watches over books and constantly destroys them. 

Yes, books are still fighting to not be destroyed by the atrocities of time.
It was only yesterday that I decided to take part in this magnificent, noble, gorgeous, noisy yet serene, and above all exciting battle.

My name is ash.
I am a eight-year-old boy who seems to have the memory of my previous life.

"Please let me read a book!"

I opened the door to the church and confided my desire.

There is no reply. The church is lined with poor chairs, and only the dust greets me. Again, priest Folke seems to be withdrawing into his private room in the back. I can't blame him. Originally, the church is not only a religious place that holds festivals, but also an educational place to conduct classes for the village. Therefore, you can study in the church. The poor chairs are for ceremonial occasions and for the villagers to find time to come and study.

However, the place where I was born is without doubt a rural area.

There is no family register, but I know that there are only a hundred villagers. Hence, is there a free person in such a small village?

The civilization of this village is similar to the dark ages of the Middle Ages. There is no internal combustion engine. Everything is done through human power. Horsepower was there before, but there is none now. The only farming horse in the village died two years ago and it became food after having a funeral in this church.

That was a BBQ party called Funeral.

I want to eat again. I'm hungry.

... (Read more at https://silver-slime.blogspot.com/)

Let's go back to the problem. Since there are no such things as farming tractors, no farming horses or cows, no chemical fertilizer, there are doubts whether there are such things as a slacker in this village. 

Needless to say. There are no slackers. Everyone here is working too much.

 

I am eight years old and have become one of the villager's workforce. It's without saying there is no difficult work for a child of my age, but we still have work, such as pulling out weeds and removing stones in the fields, collecting wild plants in the shallow forest, and fishing in the river.

In my past life, I remember that the concept of young boys and young girls are born under a rich social system and part of modern invention. In other words, the concept of boys and girls is between infants (non-labor) and adults (labor) which "can work but choose to not work". In this village, there is no such concept. Boys and girls are seen as half workforce than adults. As a result, there is currently no one in the village for priest Folke to teach, who has been assigned to this church.

 

Exceptionally, the village mayor's home is supposed to make educational time for children. It's understandable. It is the family of the mayor who will be handling tax and others. If their family can not read and write, the whole village will be in trouble. Well, in fact, this is also becoming famous and accepted. The idea is that the priest should be present and advised when necessary. 

One year after the appointment of Priest Folke, he has been educated at zero villager. 

 

Or, should I say that it was zero?

Because there is one person asking for a lesson.

 

"Folke priest, Folke priest! It's Ash from David's house! There is no reply so excuse me for coming in!"

 

After politely knocking on the door of the private room where the priest lives, in the back of the cathedral where the statue and the chair are placed, I rudely pushed the door with burning desire. There is a small, undersized room in it. In the room, a man lying down on a rattling desk scraping his long hair is looking at me.

 

"What, it's David's br―――son."

“Yes, this brat is Ash from David's house! You have a terrible face, Priest Folke!”

 

The man has a terrible bear under his eyes, perhaps he has been staying up all night. He is very thin and his appearance is dirty. He doesn't look like a priest. Secretly in the village, we refer to him as a dead priest. He likely appears in every normal eight-year-old dream. The dead priest frowns as if he received damage from listening to my voice full of vitality.

 

"What do you want? Also, speak quietly. My head hurt."

"I'm sorry, I'm a little overwhelmed. I'd like to read a book."

"A book?"

Priest Folke looks at the bookshelf behind him and snorts. It causes the dust on the shelves to sway.

"What are you going to do after reading a book? Especially in nowhere like this."

Perhaps he wants to say that in a poor village, books are useless. With a self-deprecating smile, Priest Folke certainly looks like a deadman. A dead lonely man who protects the graveyard called bookshelf.

It seems like I can't read books without persuading him.

"Yes, I'll enjoy books as it is for the time being."

The dead priest tilt over his tired face.

"What are you talking about?"

"You should've asked yourself the same question! It's a book! A book! Isn't it something you should enjoy? This world is too harsh! We can't even have the luxury to enjoy a day without doing anything!

To me, who knows a wealthy life with memories that seemed like my previous life, the poverty of this world is not normal. It feels ten times harder than anyone else. There are many times I feel like I want to punch myself. It wouldn't be surprising if I have gone insane. It's how painful living in this world is. However, I realized something yesterday. I realized it when the village chief's wife read a book that looks normal.

Immerse yourself in the world of books and heal your heart!

That's right. If reality is painful, you can enjoy something outside of reality. Such as, fantasy world!

"It's not logical. Do Priest Folke need a purpose to eat when you're hungry? Do we need a purpose to rise to the surface and take a deep breath when we are drowning?"

When the eight-year-old child ranks, the dead priest immediately nods his head in fluster. 

"Well, we'll eat without thinking much."
"Right? That's why I'm reading books for fun!"
"I see." (Read more at https://silver-slime.blogspot.com/)

After nodding, Priest Folke can't help but to reach out to the shelves. 

"Wait, that doesn't make sens――"
"Which part doesn't make sense! This pure feeling of wanting to read books!?"

With burning desire, I stare at Priest Folke right in the eyes. If I can kill a person only by looking at them, I feel like I can kill them a hundred times. It's just how much I want to read. Well, I'm actually quite worried about my rationality as I appear like this. This is not a joke, but let's say it's a joke. Perhaps my feeling was understood, Priest Folke who already has a pale face, makes an uncomfortable complexion and nodded carefully.

"Okay, I understand. But, can you read letters?"

I snorted at a question that's not worth a question.

"Priest Folke, how many people do you think that can read in this village?" 
"Two. Three if you included me."
"That's right. So you know after all."
"Then doesn't it mean you can't read at all!"

But I can read and write characters from my previous life.

It's been eight years since I was born in this world. Not only have I only seen a handful words, so this is something that you can't blame on me. 

"This is not even worth talking about. I wonder where did you learn to talk like that but I'm not going to teach some kid how to read and write."
"Oh, so you don't plan to teach me."

However, I have already expected that. From the rumors in the village, and from what I've seen, Priest Folke is rotten. It doesn't mean he is a bad person. This man in his early thirties seems to have lost his motivation and aspiration because he was sent to such a remote area from the royal capital. It's the fate of the relegated elite. I have long prepared that I'll unlikely to succeed asking a favor to a person like that.

"If that's the case, it can't be helped. Please lend me a simple book. I won't bother you any further."
"Don't be stupid. Do you know how expensive a book is? What if it gets soiled or sold?"
"Isn't that good? No one will notice if a single book disappears."

Hearing my words, Priest Folke once again looked at the bookshelf which was accumulated with dust and clicked his tongue. He can't deny my words when it's the truth, that he doesn't properly manage the books. 

"You have guts to say something like that to a priest, shitty brat."
"This isn't much. No matter how angry Priest Folke is, it won't bother other villagers at all. Especially after I obtained money from selling the books."

In this village, the value of a book is equal to zero. If I were to steal it, it means I'm blind as a thief because no one would care for the book. If there are witnesses, there is even a chance it will be overlooked once you bribe them. But since the value of a book is equal to zero, it's no different from picking up a stone at the roadside way back home. Therefore, nobody would've thought stealing a book is an act of stealing. 

Don't Priest Folke also think that way? I bet he does. I smile as I look up at Priest Folke.

"This shitty brat.. Are you threatening me?"

Please don't make such a scary face. I'm not saying things that might sound like a threat because I wanted to threaten you. I just want you to faithfully fulfill your role of an educator as priests from the church. Aren't you the one who tried to sabotage your own work?  I'm just stating my rights to study in a way that might sound threatening. Even an eight-year-old can tell which is the bad guy.

"Well, I think you can believe that I don't plan to sell the books now."

If that time actually comes, instead of borrowing it then sell it, I would rather steal then sell it. I smile as that thought passes my mind. 

"However, it is difficult to keep it clean. I will be careful but sometimes accidents will happen."

I said before Priest Folke could retort with anything. 

"In the first place, won't a book be damaged and worn out in the course of time?"
"Well, it's true that books will be worn out as time passes."

As expected, Priest Folke affirmed my words. If this is a human who has lost his rationality, it won't work. It is really nice to know that Priest Folke is a logical person. I feel relieved as I interpret the hidden meaning between his words.

"Yes. The books will inevitably be deteriorated. They will deteriorate and eventually rot. I wonder how many times these books have been read up to now. And how many times will they be read in the future."

I don't know, of course, but certainty it has and will not be read much in the future. At least, it'll lose its shape before it's worn out by being read too much.

"A book is more desperate for me to read and damage it, rather than being kept in the dust and deteriorated in course time. If I read it, I might be able to rewrite and bring the knowledge back."
"That's true."

Priest Folke nods several times with his arms folded, seemingly impressed with my words.

"You are really good with your words. Are you really a peasant's child? Are you sure your family is not a merchant? "
"I think you already know..."
"That's right. Well, it's okay. I'll lend you a book because you're good with your mouth, so read it carefully to preserve it for future generations."

It seems like this flow is going with where I want as rationality seems to return to Priest Folke. 

"No, wait, wait, wait! But you can't read!?"
"Damn, you noticed it again."
"This shitty brat almost tricked me again!"
"What do you mean by tricking you? I'm an innocent, defenceless eight years old boy."

What a horrifying way to say. It's not like I'm trying to trick him. It may sound like a scam, but I'm just trying to convince him. 

"Well, I'm sure I can't read it now, so lend me a simple book. I'll remember it myself."
"You stupid brat. If it's that easy to learn, would a priest like me be brought to this kind of place?"
"Nobody says it's easy to remember. Please lend me a book that contains the scriptures that Priest Folke often used at festivals. Something like a textbook that summarized that? Or a sermon collection is good too."

Priest Folke make a face as though he is thinking deeply about what a fraudsters had just said. He must be wondering if I'm plotting something through my words. Once again, I'm just persuading him to let me read books in a way that might sound threatening or fraudulent. I won't actually do anything like that. Please believe in the innocent eyes of this eight-year-old kid.

"I don't know what you're planning to do."

Priest Folke really has bad eyesight. I think this is mainly due to lack of sleep.

"Well, that's fine. If that's the case, there's a manuscript I wrote. It can't be sold or become money, and it wouldn't be a problem if it got dirty."
"Oh, thank you very much! Priest Folke, God bless you!"

It's worth pursuing Priest Folke. As expected, a proper though time-consuming talk is the best. Not only violence, but fraud and intimidation is a barbarian without rationality. People have the ability to understand each other. I grab the manuscript Priest Folke said with a deep sense of accomplishment. However, Priest Folke holds it tightly as if he doesn't want to hand it to me. 

"Thank you for the opportunity. Please be assured that I will take care of it carefully."

Bastard, release your hand, is what I'm trying to convey. 

"Listen properly. Don't do anything weird or improper. Don't upset adults."
"What do you mean by doing something weird? It's not like I'm trying to threaten anyone."

Quick, let your hand go. This is mine now. Priest Folke seems hesitant at first, before finally letting go. That's right, you should've just handed it to me from the beginning. Instead of replying with blessing as what a priest should've done, his eyes trace over the book― No, I should say, the bundle of papers and glace over the words that I can't read. Among them, I found a few characters I have seen. I decided to ask Priest Folke.

"Priest Folke, please tell me how to read this sentence"
"Didn't you say that if I lend you a book, you won't bother me anymore?"
"Yeah, I told you clearly. So don't use your hand and speak instead." 

Don't make such a speechless face and tell me quickly. If you really tell me this, I won't bother you. At least for today.

According to the Priest Folke, that sentence is a prayer verse that peasants often use. It means, "A strong wolf god, a wise monkey god, a ferocious dragon god". As expected, it has something to do with "wolf god," "monkey god," and "dragon god." I could conclude from the similarity to the letters engraved on the three statues enshrined in the church. I'm glad. This character is a phonetic alphabet, not an ideograph.

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