Jobless Reincarnation: The King with a Mental Problem

Mambo walked slowly and steadily along the mountain path, his footsteps crunching over the frozen surface.

Luo Qixi held me in her arms like a warm stove while driving.

"Besides their enormous size, high fire resistance, and tough scales, what makes dragons so troublesome is their ability to fly."

"Because if you realize you can't win a fight, and there's danger, you can just take off and escape?"

"That's right. Once they escape, you can't catch them on foot. Besides, dragons are intelligent creatures and hold grudges. They might come back for revenge once they've recovered from their injuries."

"In other words, it's best not to give him a chance to escape; kill him on the spot."

"That's right. My ice water blade is very effective at cutting flesh, but its effectiveness decreases if the distance is too far or if it cuts through hard scales."

"My dust crystal saw now has the power to cut hard objects, but it can only do so when you are close enough. If you are far away, the control will decrease, and the power will naturally be insufficient."

"I think the tactic is to harass him with low-power magic first, and then you can defend with earth magic when he gets close. Then I will use ice water blades to cut open his wings and wing membranes, directly rendering him unable to escape."

"Then I will use my secret technique, King's Earth Sticky Prison, Shadow Swamp, to hit and bind him. After that, the two of us will get close and behead him."

"Shadow Swamp? What kind of new move is this?"

After switching back to the Shadow Lord's style: "That's silt that the Shadow Lord brought back from the abyss. It's usually a fluid, but it will turn into a solid if it's impacted."

Initially intended as a defensive measure, but discovering that its solidity had a limit, I simply used it all to smash and envelop the enemy. The more the enemy struggled, the harder it was for them to break free; if they remained still, they would become my target.

It's actually just a non-Newtonian fluid.

"If we want to protect the spoils and organs, this is probably the best plan. But the spoils are secondary. If the situation gets out of control, we can just kill him."

"I will. It's just a beast," Wang said disdainfully. "If things get out of control, I'll use other methods. In short, I won't let it leave alive."

The king and the witch rode on Mambo towards Grimm Village, discussing the upcoming battle.

Their initial enthusiasm was dampened by reality upon arriving in Green Village.

Green Village was quieter than I had imagined.

It wasn't the kind of quiet where "everyone is taking a nap," it was the kind of quiet where "the person is no longer here."

Many houses collapsed, some were burned down, and some were smashed to pieces by immense force.

Some walls bear huge claw marks, as if they had been combed by a giant comb.

A person was sitting under a big tree at the entrance of the village.

No, he wasn't sitting. He was leaning against the tree trunk, completely still.

The snow on his body had accumulated to a thick layer, blending into the tree trunk.

The king and the witch stopped in their tracks.

After walking over, I wiped the snow off his face.

He was an older middle-aged man with his eyes closed, and his expression didn't seem to be in pain.

He held a rusty woodcutter's knife in his hand, with a chip on the blade, as if it had broken off after striking something hard.

"...Let's go, Trevor, let's go find the people who are still alive."

After some time, we found the survivors.

Of the village of several hundred, only seventy-three remained, twenty-seven of whom were children. The oldest looked no more than ten years old, and the youngest was still an infant, held in the arms of an old woman, and did not cry out. Everyone was huddled near the clinic, yet the silence was eerie.

It's not "being strong," it's "being unable to cry anymore."

To be honest, if I were in your shoes, I wouldn't know what to say either.

After all, given our ages, Luo Qixi and I don't seem very reliable.

A woman with brown hair stood up. Her hair was disheveled and draped over her shoulders, her face was covered in grime, and her sleeves were rolled up to her elbows, revealing several bloody scratches from the rubble. Although she looked disheveled, you could tell that she was trying her best to stay upright.

"May I ask who you are?"

"I am a Water King-level magician—Lokishi." Lokishi's voice wasn't loud, but it was clear. "He is my disciple, Trevor. We've come to defeat that dragon."

Perhaps it was the weight of the words "Water King level" that made the woman's shoulders slump slightly, as if something that had been supporting her for too long could finally be put down for a little while.

"Please come in. But... we have nothing left to offer."

"Don't worry about it." Luo Qixi followed her inside. "Take us to see the injured first. My disciple and I both have healing magic."

For the next few hours, Loki and I treated the injured.

Fractures, burns, lacerations—and several others who were struck by the dragon's tail suffered internal bleeding and turned as white as paper.

The room was filled with the faint cracking sound of bones being reset and the muffled groans that had been squeezed out of the throat.

The woman, the wife of the resident knight, had been assisting him the whole time. Her movements were practiced and efficient; she handed him things, held the injured man down, wiped away the blood, and didn't utter a single unnecessary word.

During a break in the treatment, Luo Qixi and I gathered some information.

The dragon wasn't the usual red; it was black, and it had many wounds on its body.

She had come to this village four times already, each time to kill. Her husband died during the second attack. After that, it was a one-sided massacre.

Wyverns don't need to hunt so frequently and rarely act alone, so it must be an unfortunate exception.

"Why didn't they evacuate?"

"Where to?" She looked up at me, her eyes filled with weariness, not blame. "The elderly can't walk, the children can't stand the cold. And..."

She paused.

"This is our home."

I didn't ask any more questions.

By the time Luo Qixi finished treating the last injured person, it was almost dark. She stood up, stretched her stiff shoulders, then walked over to me and said softly, "I'll go see if there's anything to eat."

"Um."

She walked away.

I stood at the door of the ward, looking outside.

Ruins. Snow. Silence.

At that moment, I saw another person who had accepted the commission.

A middle-aged man wearing a tattered cloak was holding not a sword, but a metal rod. He looked like someone who had been through a lot.

His boots were muddy, his cloak had holes, and his face was etched with exhaustion.

I don't know when he arrived.

There was no self-introduction, nor was there any "I'm here to slay the dragons".

They simply kept clearing the rubble, continuing for an unknown period of time, their movements powerful and without any deformation.

It was later learned that he took out the food he had brought—a large bag of dried meat and some hard bread—and handed it to the aunt who was helping with the cooking, then went to the ruins to help.

The snow started falling again, fine and delicate, landing on my hair and shoulders.

To be honest, I really hate this kind of atmosphere.

I hate this numbness and despair that permeates the air.

But there's something I can do.

I walked to an open space, squatted down, and placed my hands on the ground.

This time there is no "Type Zero Modified" or any exaggerated suffix.

It's just a house.

Stone walls rose from the ground, one piece at a time, neatly arranged, like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Windows, doors, chimneys, fireplaces—after completing one building, I didn't stop. I imprinted the entire structure of the house into the barrier, and then—

The second building.

The third building.

The fourth building.

The gray-white stone walls stood up in the snow, like mushrooms growing from the ground. They stood side by side, in a row.

Someone made a sound behind me.

It wasn't cheering, it wasn't applause.

It was a very soft sound, like a sigh.

I turned my head.

People seemed to have witnessed some kind of miracle.

But no action was taken.

"What? Why don't you decorate your own homes? Do you expect me to tidy up for you like a maid?"

Lady Knight rallied and resumed issuing commands.

People began rummaging through the ruins for anything still usable: a table, a chair, an unbroken pottery jar, a blanket that could still be used.

They moved these things into the new house and arranged them.

It felt like doing something I hadn't done in a long time.

The wife of the knight stationed in the village walked up to me and looked down at me.

She remained silent for a while.

"Thank you," she said. "My husband always said that once he saved enough money, he would repaint the walls of our house. He never got around to it."

Her voice did not tremble.

But her eyes were red.

"...Please accept my condolences."

"I know." She nodded. "Those who survive always have more to bear and must keep moving forward."

She turned and walked away, her voice regaining its strength.

It's not that we're not sad, it's that we've temporarily put our sadness in our pockets.

The numb wind drifted away from the village, and people rediscovered hope, their faces showing long-lost smiles.

The king rejoiced for the people's hopes.

Loki returned to my side and picked up the short king.

"You're really amazing, little hero." After saying that, Luo Qixi kissed the king's forehead.

"Next, all we need to do is kill that evil dragon."

The man in the cloak did not speak.

He simply moved stones and handed out planks silently, occasionally taking a sip of water from someone and continuing to work.

It wasn't until evening that he approached me and Luo Qixi and took off his hood.

"Hello... I am... Chantelle."

He remained silent for a long time.

"Beishin-ryu, leave that dragon to me."

Is this middle-aged man, whoever he came from, so brave?