After running my stone hatchet down to its last sliver of durability, 2/10, according to the interface, I had managed to collect forty-eight logs. A ridiculous number for such a primitive tool, but I wasn't about to complain.
Satisfied, I returned to the dirt road and resumed my walk toward Stonesworth Village, the name I'd read on the sign earlier. Along the way, I continued scooping up anything that looked remotely useful: sticks, stones, long grasses, and the occasional wild herb.
At some point, I discovered something fascinating: I didn't even need to touch items to collect them. As long as I was within about a meter and focused on the object, it shimmered and vanished straight into my inventory.
I grinned. "Auto-loot mode. Now that's a quality-of-life feature."
The countryside rolled past in peaceful silence. The only sounds were the crunch of my boots against the road and the distant hum of insects. After an hour or so, the landscape began to change, patches of farmland, wooden fences, and the faint smoke of hearth fires appeared on the horizon.
A few small stone cottages came into view, their chimneys puffing out lazy trails of smoke. Nearby, several women worked the fields, tilling the soil with simple tools. Their straw hats shaded their faces, but when they noticed me approaching, they froze mid-motion.
One by one, they straightened up and stared.
Their gazes were sharp, curious, assessing, and unmistakably intense. I knew that look. I'd seen it a thousand times before… just never directed at me.
On construction sites back on Earth, whenever an attractive woman happened to walk past, the guys would stop whatever they were doing to stare. Sometimes they'd whistle or make comments that had made me cringe. And now, to my deep discomfort, I was on the receiving end of the same kind of stare, from half a dozen women, no less.
I rubbed the back of my neck and kept walking, pretending not to notice. "Yeah, okay. Definitely not used to being the one ogled."
No one approached me, but their eyes followed me until I was well down the road.
Not long after, a soft ding echoed faintly in my mind.
[Crafting Complete – Craftbench T1 acquired.]
"Perfect timing." I quickly stored it and kept moving.
The road widened as I neared the village. Stonesworth wasn't large, maybe a hundred houses at most, but it had that rustic charm that came straight out of fantasy novels. A low wooden fence surrounded it, though time and weather had clearly taken their toll. Boards leaned, gaps yawned open, and the main entrance was nothing more than a wide break in the wall.
Two figures stood guard at the opening. Both women, just as the goddess had said, would be the norm in this world.
As I approached, I noticed they wore matching sets of leather armor, light brown and well-maintained, with short spears in hand. The moment they spotted me, they stiffened and moved closer together, whispering to each other.
I could practically hear their thoughts: Who's the strange man walking into town alone?
Taking a steadying breath, I kept my pace calm and nonthreatening. When I was a few meters away, one of them raised a hand.
"Good afternoon," she said. "Welcome to Stonesworth. Are you just passing through, or are you planning to stay a while?"
Her tone was formal but polite. Oddly enough, I understood every word, no magical subtitles, no translation delay. I silently thanked the goddess.
"Good afternoon," I replied. "This might sound strange, but… I'm a reincarnator. I just arrived in this world today. The goddess mentioned that there are groups or associations that help people like me get started. Is that true?"
The guard blinked, then gave me a quick once-over. Even under her helmet, I could see the faint flush spreading across her cheeks. "A reincarnator, huh? Wait here." She turned to her companion. "Cecil, keep an eye on him."
Without another word, she spun on her heel and marched briskly toward the village.
Her partner, apparently named Cecil, approached with far less formality. "I'm Cecil. What's your name?"
She couldn't have been more than twenty. Short blonde hair framed a pair of sharp blue eyes, and her lean, athletic frame suggested daily training. She had the kind of easy confidence I'd expect from someone used to physical work.
"My name's Abel," I said, smiling. "Nice to meet you, Cecil."
The effect was immediate. Her cheeks went pink. "So you really are a reincarnator? When did you get here?"
"About a few hours ago. I spawned out in the fields, saw the sign for the village, and walked here."
"You walked? Alone?" Her eyebrows rose. "Men don't usually walk this far outside settlements."
That caught my attention. "Really? Why not?"
"Because," she said matter-of-factly, "they're rare. If something happened to you, the locals would lose their minds."
Right. Twenty women for every man. Even a small village would treat a guy like some kind of rare collectible.
"My old world was called Earth," I added, trying to steer the topic back to something neutral. "Have you heard of it?"
Cecil nodded eagerly. "A few months ago, an adventurer from Earth stayed here! He was an A-rank adventurer. His party cleared out a goblin nest in the forest."
"That's impressive. How often do people like me show up here?"
"Brand new ones like you? Maybe three times a year. Most spawn around the outskirts. We usually help them get settled."
"Only three?" I whistled softly. "Guess I got lucky."
She giggled. "Yeah, lucky for us, too. So, Abel, do you—"
"That's enough, Cecil."
The sharp voice came from behind her. The first guard had returned, flanked by two others.
Cecil jumped slightly and turned, trying not to look embarrassed.
"I told you to watch him, not interrogate him," The returniong guard scolded before looking at me. "Apologies. Abel, was it? Could you come with us? The mayor and the priestess would like to meet you."
I followed them into the village. As we passed through the broken gate, curious faces peeked from windows and doorways. Women, young, old, and everywhere in between, stopped what they were doing to watch me. Some whispered behind their hands; others simply stared.
It was unnerving. Being outnumbered was one thing, being noticed by everyone for it was another entirely.
We stopped in front of a modest stone building with a wooden sign shaped like a cross and crescent: the village chapel.
Two women awaited us.
The first was elderly, her back bent and her steps slow, supported by a simple cane. Her face was a map of wrinkles, but her eyes were bright and alert. "My name is Chrone," she said warmly. "I serve as Stonesworth's mayor. It's a pleasure to meet you, young man."
"The pleasure's mine, ma'am," I replied respectfully.
Beside her stood a woman who looked almost ethereal, young, petite, and strikingly beautiful, with long golden hair that framed a face so gentle it could have belonged to a saint. What drew my attention the most was her ample bosom.
Her robes were white with blue accents, and her presence seemed to carry a faint glow of divinity.
"I am the village priestess, Claire," she said, her voice soft but clear. "The guards told us you are a newly arrived reincarnator. Please, come with us to the chapel. We can assess your divine gift and provide any guidance you might need."
Her smile was radiant, calming in a way that made the weight of my journey finally catch up to me.
I nodded. "Thank you, Priestess Claire. I'd appreciate that."
As I followed them through the chapel doors, the murmurs of the villagers faded behind me.