Chapter 1 TRG Vol. 1 Prologue Part 1

Prologue to Posing as a Master (The Public Story)

I think everyone has wondered about it at least once in their lives. What if you were reincarnated somewhere that wasn’t here?

And what if that place was a world of swords and magic, just like in a game or a manga? What would you think?

You’d probably think this:

‘I want to be the protagonist of that world.’

I get it. I really do. Anyone would dream of that. You’d fantasize about being a hero who saves countless people with overwhelming power.

But when I became self-aware and realized I’d been reincarnated into another world, I thought something else entirely.

I! Want to be! The hero’s! MASTER!

That’s right. I wasn’t drawn to being the main character; I was fascinated by the supporting role that guides him. The hero who confronts the Demon King or the Dragon King… and the veteran soldier who watches over him from the back lines. It’s just so… refined. So cool.

And then, when the victorious hero reports back to me, I, as his master, will say:

“I am proud of you. You did well, my disciple.”

…It’s just too awesome. That’s what I want to do.

“Hey! Stop slacking off and get this work done!”

A crude voice shattered my glorious internal monologue. Dammit, interrupted again.

Getting reincarnated was fine, but I think there was a mistake in the settings. Why was I born in a cold, remote village in the mountains? And as the third son of a totally ordinary farming family, no less?

The one who just interrupted my daily daydream was my father in this world. He’s a model farmer who wears a straw hat and diligently works the fields day in and day out. My two older brothers follow him without a single complaint, but I have a huge problem with it.

I need to be training to become the hero’s master, not digging in the dirt!

“You’re off in la-la land again, aren’t you? Sheesh, try to be more like your brothers.”

My old man sighed, seeing right through me.

It’s infuriating to have my grand ambition dismissed as ‘nonsense,’ but I’m still just a kid who can’t even earn his own keep. In a dirt-poor farming family, the third son has no human rights.

…I just have to endure it. Endure it, me! Once I’ve trained and my body is bigger, I’ll leave this village and make a life for myself as an adventurer.

Thinking that, I finished the day’s work, utterly exhausted. After a meager dinner that would have brought my past self to tears, it was finally my time. In this world, once the sun sets, the only light comes from a fire. You either go to bed early or… you do what you gotta do.

So, I quietly slipped out of the house, ‘borrowed’ my father’s farming hoe, and began practicing my swings behind the house with reckless abandon.

A sword, you ask? As if a simple farmer would own such a fine weapon!

“Hngh! Hngh! I will… one day… become the hero’s master!”

My body is still small, so it pathetically gives out right away, but I have no time to rest. I tossed the hoe aside, raised my right hand to shoulder height, closed my eyes, and focused on the magic power that must be sleeping within me.

“Fireball!”

My long-awaited spell echoed uselessly. Nothing shot out from my right hand.

But I can’t get discouraged. My hidden talent is bound to awaken someday.

“Status Open!”

I recited the classic phrase, now a daily ritual. Visualizing your status is a common trope in these isekai reincarnations, right? But no hologram displaying my current abilities appeared.

…Yeah, I’ve been trying this ever since I regained my memories, and it’s never worked. Maybe this is just the kind of isekai where you can’t see your status.

Oh well. I never thought the path to becoming a master would be easy. For now, all I can do is train. And so, after finishing my ‘magic’ practice, I picked up the hoe and resumed my swings. Aim for a strike that leaves sound itself behind!

After finishing my training for the day, I’d look at my torn-up hands, satisfied that I’d gotten a little stronger, and go to sleep.

My days since regaining my memories were a simple loop: wake up, eat, farm, rest, farm, eat, train, sleep. But that’s not to say I had zero interest in anything else.

The village had no entertainment to speak of, and I had no playmates my age, so I directed my boyish curiosity toward the mountain near the village. However…

“Just don’t you ever go near that mountain! There’s a monster living there. If anyone besides the old hunter goes in, they’re dead.”

Not just my old man, but all the village adults insisted I stay away, so there was nothing else to do.

‘A monster,’ they said, but it’s probably just some weakling like a slime, right? I’d just hunt it for fun on my way out when I was strong enough to leave the village. I was thinking about this lackadaisically during a break from farm work when my older brother, who usually avoids me like the plague, sidled up with a smirk.

“You know the story about the monster that lives up on the mountain?” he began, in a way that was obviously leading to something. According to him, a single monster has claimed the nearby mountain as its territory. It usually stays near the summit, but when it does come down to the base, the merchants—the village’s lifeline—turn right back around. If the supply of goods from the merchants is cut off, the village struggles to survive the winter.

Oho, I thought. This sounds just like a sub-quest the hero would take on at the start of his journey.

“If you’re really out there ‘training’ every night swinging a hoe, you’re not scared of a little monster, are you?” chimed in my other older brother, also grinning. They’re twins, and both have the same generic mob-face as me. Black hair, black eyes, sleepy-looking, and thoroughly un-special.

Anyway, I can’t back down from a taunt. “I’m not scared of some monster that lairs near a backwater village like this!” I declared, turning to head for the mountain.

“What kind of idiot thing are you saying!”

My father’s fist came down on all three of us brothers with perfect, equal-opportunity knuckle-sandwiches. When he heard what was happening, he saw me trying to go to the mountain and his face paled. He dragged me back, got the story, and doled out the punishment.

“I… I didn’t think he’d actually try to go…” said my eldest brother.

But I’m not going to be deterred. I’ve been training in both sword (hoe) and magic (nothing). I’m pretty sure I can take down an early-game small-fry monster.

“You… Even full-grown adults can’t handle that thing, and you think a kid can do anything? You’ll just be monster food.” My father sighed, looking at me with genuine exasperation.

“Fine. If you’re that stubborn, I’ll introduce you to the old hunter. Go listen to his stories, and let him wake you up from this reckless dream of yours.”

Realizing I wouldn’t listen to him, my father offered to introduce me to the old hunter who lives in a mountain hut. Rumor has it, the old man used to be an adventurer. This was perfect! I could get permission to enter the mountain and hear stories from a real ex-adventurer.

“On one condition. You finish all your chores properly, got it?” my father added, sensing my excitement.

Don’t worry, old man. I’ll get it done.

I promised, and he took me to the hut where the ex-adventurer lived. It was a rustic shack at the very edge of the mountain, with smoke puffing from its chimney.

After our initial greetings, his first words were: “You want to be an adventurer, so you want to hear my stories? What a strange kid.”

He looked at me, exasperated, while puffing on a misshapen, hand-made pipe. “Getting involved with monsters… you’ll run out of lives fast. I was just lucky to live this long. I’ve seen more unlucky guys who died anticlimactic deaths than I can count.”

He looked pretty cool, puffing smoke like that. This is the kind of gruff, elderly master-type character I want to be in the future. To do that, I have to learn from this man, learn the sword of an ex-adventurer! With renewed determination, I earnestly begged him to take me as his disciple.

“A disciple, for a failure like me, eh… Well, I guess I can humor you for a little while.”

It wasn’t exactly that he was moved by my passion, but he agreed to teach me the sword, so it was my win. Anyway, today I wanted to hear about his adventuring days.

“My stories, eh? Don’t have many grand ones…”

The stories he told… were, frankly, not that impressive. The ‘monsters’ he talked about were all just animal-types, like wolves, deer, and squirrels. The only time my interest was piqued was when he mentioned something like a goblin. But apparently, he fought that goblin and decided to retire immediately. Hearing that, his power ranking in my head plummeted.

Well, I guess that’s what you get from an ‘ex-adventurer’ who retired to a remote village, I told myself.

“Village life might be boring, but that boredom is peace,” he said, implicitly telling me to give up.

But I’m a reincarnator, dammit! I can’t just end up as a farmer. Especially not the third son, who has no place to stay here anyway. I explained all this to him emphatically.

“…You’re just like I used to be. Fine. I’ll play along until you give up. Finish all your chores at home, then come to me.”

And just like that, I successfully became his apprentice. He’s probably not that strong anyway. With all the training I’m already doing, his ‘training’ should be a piece of cake!

“Hh… Hh…”

“Already at your limit? And you had the nerve to say you wanted to be an adventurer.”

Th-this old geezer…!

His ‘training’ was what I can only describe as highly unreasonable for a child. First, he gave me a kodachi that I could barely even lift, and told me to ‘keep swinging it until you collapse’ as if it were nothing. On top of that, he watched me like a hawk, and if I even tried to rest for a second, he’d hit me with a stick to make me continue.

—

TL Note: “Kodachi” (小太刀) is a short sword.

—

Isn’t this just straight-up child abuse? I wanted to scream, but he just said I’d never make it as an adventurer if I couldn’t handle this. Dammit, he knows exactly how to push my buttons.

“Swords don’t work on monsters,” the old man droned on as I swung, my hatred for him growing. “That stuff only happens in stories. …Well, that, or you’re my old partner.”

If your partner could cut them, then so can I, you damn geezer!

“A half-assed sword won’t cut a monster. That’s why you set traps. This whole mountain is full of traps I’ve set over the years. Neither sword nor trap can even scratch the ‘master’ of this mountain. But because of these traps, it finds it annoying and doesn’t come down here.”

Just when I thought sword practice was over, he dragged me into the mountains to learn how to maintain his traps.

Wait a minute… am I just being forced to do a hunter’s chores on top of my farm chores?

“Look closely at how this vine runs. It’s not natural. This is a trap. If you trip it, a log tied to that tree over there falls. But bugs eat the vines, and they rot in the rain. So you have to replace them regularly. You try it.”

He explained them one by one, and I learned how to maintain the traps. Before I knew it, I had been forced to memorize the location and maintenance of every single trap he’d set. This is weird. I became his apprentice so I wouldn’t have to dig in the dirt in the countryside, but now it looks like I’m being groomed as his hunter successor.

“You’re a quick learner. Your form with the sword is good, too… At this rate…”

One day, as I was putting my all into what I could only describe as torture, I overheard the old man mutter something. He probably didn’t mean for me to hear it, but… that’s the line! Did I finally level up? Is it time for me to go and casually one-shot this ‘master of the mountain’?

Thinking this, I proposed to the old man that I go into the mountain alone to maintain the traps. He’s usually so adamant about me not going in, but today he didn’t stop me. My level must have definitely gone up.

With his permission, I entered the mountain, checking the traps while heading higher than I ever had before. I saw some mountain animals, but after a certain point, they vanished. The old man said it was because the ‘master of the mountain’ hunted them all.

“The master is called a Rat-Beast,” the old man had told me during training. “It used to be a normal animal, but it was corrupted by miasma, grew huge, and started attacking people.”

I’d come to a place I’d never set foot in before. The surrounding branches rustled. The sun was blocked by the canopy, making it dim.

O-okay, it’s getting pretty atmospheric.

I was terrified, but I pressed on. Suddenly, a giant black shadow landed in front of me from overhead.

Its body was easily larger than my child-sized self. We couldn’t speak, but I could tell its black eyes were glaring at me with pure hatred. And on its forehead was a magnificent, single horn.

…Maybe this was a little too hard for a kid. But I can’t lose! I should have leveled up! I can’t lose to a monster that just looks like a giant rat or squirrel!

I charged, swinging at the squirrel monster. It didn’t even move, clearly underestimating me. “Your carelessness will be your doom!” I swung the kodachi down with all my might…

…only for it to be repelled with a sharp CLANG, a sound not like hitting flesh.

…Huh?

The rest of the night was a desperate, muddy scramble for my life. I didn’t level up at all! Then what was that meaningful thing the old man muttered?! I screamed internally. I led it into every trap I knew, using up almost every single log trap and pitfall the old man had made, and finally managed to shake the monster. I staggered back to his hut.

The old man, who must have been worried, ran to me and hugged me. In his warmth, I pathetically burst into tears.

My spirit was completely snapped by a mere squirrel monster.

I, a reincarnator, am so weak I can’t even beat a monster in this remote backwater. Someone like me can never become the hero’s master. My ideal master… is a mysterious powerhouse who guides the hero, shows up when he’s in a pinch, and effortlessly defeats a powerful foe.

With my total lack of talent, becoming that character is impossible.

That’s why I decided to polish a weakling’s skills as a weakling. I just need a sword style that looks overwhelmingly strong to an amateur.

I have only one path. I will ‘master’ a Fake Sword Style. I’ll find a promising ‘hero candidate’ and show off this fake style, securing my position as the ‘master who appears before the story even begins.’ After I’ve ‘trained’ him for a bit, I’ll vanish. He’s a hero, so he’ll probably get strong on his own anyway; my shoddy training won’t make a difference.

Later, I’ll hear rumors of his great deeds, and I’ll sit in the corner of a quiet tavern, muttering meaningfully to myself.

“Heh. The kid’s gotten strong.”

That’s it. I won’t be the master who’s involved in the whole story; I’ll be the master who only shows up in flashbacks. By the time the hero is strong, he’ll have figured out I’m a weakling, but that’s fine. The plan is to disappear before I’m found out and savor the feeling all by myself.

With my new plan set, I had to finish my training and get out of this village as soon as possible. And my fake sword style needed to be at least good enough to beat weak monsters like that squirrel, otherwise, it’s not a convincing bluff.

I, who ran for my life from a squirrel, had no chance against a strong monster, but I should at least aim to beat slimes, goblins, and, if I’m lucky, maybe even a golem. Do golems even exist in this world? Well, goblins do, so probably.

With this new goal, I threw myself into training. Soon, the entire village was looking at me like I was a freak. I’d run to the old man’s hut the second farm work was done… I was an un-cute kid who swung the kodachi until I literally collapsed, even when the old man told me to stop. Soon, even the ex-adventurer old man started asking if I was insane.

“I certainly said your form was good… but to go this far…”

He started muttering things like that often, but I wasn’t going to be fooled by his meaningful-sounding nonsense again! I already fell for that once, and it nearly got me killed!

“Enough with the practice swings. Starting today, you spar with me.”

A while after I’d devoted myself to this new training, the old man said that, and my training became mock battles against him.

“Too slow! Treat my attacks like a monster’s!”

This damn geezer… doesn’t he feel bad going all out against a kid?! That said, he calls himself a ‘failure,’ so he’s probably not that strong. Even factoring in my age, I should at least be able to land one hit on him!

At first, I held on to that thought. But if I lost, my ‘punishment’ was swinging my sword until I collapsed and then maintaining all the mountain traps. It was just too cruel for a kid already exhausted from farm work. When I finally muttered a complaint, he just taunted me.

“If you’re serious about killing monsters, you’re going to have to at least beat a simple old man in a hut, kid.”

That just fueled my frustration, and I poured it all back into my training. Just you watch, old man! I’ll definitely land a hit on you!

“‘Monsters are living things, too. They always have a weak spot. Watch their bodies, their movements… They attack us on instinct. That’s why they don’t make unreasonable moves. They naturally use the most efficient movements for their bodies. That’s why humans, with our thinking brains, can find the small gaps. My partner… that’s how he cut monsters.'”

I continued this life—listening to his stories about his partner, spending nights at his hut until dawn, returning home, finishing my farm work, and going right back—for so long I lost count.

And then, finally, the day my persistence paid off arrived.

“Don’t telegraph your moves with your eyes! Look at everything at once and keep moving!”

That day, too, I was knocked down again and again. I tried using my small body, staying low to the ground to slash at his shins, but he just hopped over it and brought his stick down on my head in a counter-attack. Stars burst in my vision.

“Too slow!”

My vision blackened, and I almost passed out. Normally, I would have collapsed. But not today.

I whipped my tangled legs, forced my right foot forward, and kicked off the ground with all my might. I had managed to slip right into the spot where the old man, who had just jumped, was about to land.

His eyes widened in shock. Before he could react, while his feet were still off the ground and he was at his most defenseless, I swung my sheathed kodachi sideways with a yell. The tip struck his thigh hard, and I succeeded in breaking his balance.

As he fell, I mounted him and thrust the kojiri at his throat.

—

TL Note: “Kojiri” (コジリ) is the metal tip of the scabbard.

—

How about that! I did it! Take that!

For a while, neither of us could speak, desperately trying to catch our breath. The old man, who clearly hadn’t expected to lose to a kid, gaped at me, his eyes and mouth wide open. Then, his expression softened, and he covered his eyes with his left hand and burst out laughing.

“You did it faster than I expected. I… I wasn’t planning on losing just yet…” he muttered, his voice trailing off wistfully. He grabbed my collar, lifted me off him, and stood up. I’d hit his thigh with all my strength, and he could just stand up? I cursed my own lack of power.

“Alright! You landed a hit. This calls for a celebration.”

He said that, carried me to his hut, and roasted a feast of deer meat for me. And not just the usual dried jerky. He brought out fresh meat from a catch that morning. This hunter in his mountain hut eats way better than my family does toiling on the farm.

“…When you first said you wanted to be an adventurer, I thought it was just a kid’s fever dream,” he said with a somber face, watching me devour the meat.

“But look how far you’ve come. How about it? Why don’t you stay here and take over for me as the hunter? I could trust you with the mountain.”

A scouting offer? No, I want to be an adventurer, not a hunter in this backwater. I told him as much, and he just smiled wryly. “Yeah. I figured you’d say that.” He didn’t say anything more.

I’d trained this hard to become an adventurer. Why would I be happy ending up as a hunter in the countryside?

“But be warned. It’s not a path you can walk with half-baked resolve. …Don’t you die.”

He’s being so serious, but I have zero intention of fighting any high-risk monsters. My entire goal is to beat a sub-tutorial-level monster in a cool-looking way so I can pose as a master. I couldn’t say that, obviously, so I just gave him a vague answer.

I mean, his training nearly killed me every day. If I just remember that, I’ll be fine, right?

“I see… I’ll just pray that what I’ve taught you helps, even a little.”

With that, the old man lay down without eating much. Did he lose his appetite because he lost to a kid like me?

Oh well. I gratefully ate all the leftover meat and slept in the hut.

From the next day, alongside my training, I started learning useful survival skills from the old man. My win rate against him in our mock battles steadily climbed, and within six months, I was beating him consistently.

“I know I’m old, but to lose this much… Is this what they call a ‘talent blessed by the sword’?”

When I heard him mutter that, I felt a little happy. But then I thought about it. I’m getting cocky… over beating an old, ‘failure’ ex-adventurer who lives as a hunter in the boonies? That’s not just lame, it’s pathetic. There are probably tons of adventurers way stronger than him.

While learning from him, I was also preparing to get my revenge on the squirrel monster. I reset the traps on the mountain and worked on figuring out its movement patterns.

I beat the old man. I must have leveled up enough to beat that squirrel monster by now. Right? If I can’t even win this, my adventure is over before it begins. There are no other opponents to get EXP from.

A year after my first victory against the old man, I finally challenged the squirrel monster to a rematch.

I lured it out of its cave near the summit and led it into a series of pitfalls and log traps to hinder its movement. Then I began the tedious battle: striking its incredibly hard fur—which felt like metal armor—over and over and over.

It charged, trying to gore me with its horn. I dodged, and as I passed, I slammed my kodachi into its neck. My strategy was to aim only for the neck. Since one attack did almost no damage, there was no point in hitting its legs or back. I had to focus all my attacks on the one spot that would do the most damage. It was the ‘chip-damage’ strategy: slowly whittling it down with a flurry of weak attacks.

I kept using the traps to distract it, slashing at it when I found an opening, dodging its claws and fangs, and slashing again. The fur on the monster’s neck was eventually torn away by my sword, revealing skin covered in hair-thin cuts.

See? The chip-damage strategy solves everything. The squirrel monster was getting really irritated with my tactics. It started charging more often, letting out a menacing roar that made me want to ask, ‘Are you sure you’re a squirrel?’

But that angry charge was its fatal mistake. I maneuvered with my back to a tree, and when it charged, I led it straight into the trunk. Its magnificent horn stabbed deep into the wood, and it was stuck.

I’ve seen this strategy in games before!

I put all my strength into a strike at the wound on its neck. For the first time, my sword bit deep into its flesh.

The squirrel thrashed wildly, but I wouldn’t let it go. I jumped onto its back, using my weight to drive the sword deeper.

Bright red blood spurted out. I can do this! I thought, but the squirrel showed more tenacity than I expected and threw me off.

The tree itself splintered, freeing its horn. Now I was face-to-face with a monster that was bleeding profusely from the sword still stuck in its neck, glaring at me with pure hatred.

“Why is a sub-tutorial enemy this damn tough?!”

It couldn’t have understood my complaint, but the squirrel roared and charged again. I was staggering. I had avoided any direct hits, but I was covered in scrapes, and I was out of breath. I couldn’t take a solid hit. I forced my aching body to leap to the side, dodging the charge. I managed to grab the hilt of the kodachi still stuck in its neck and gripped it with both hands. Then, with my last ounce of strength, I planted my feet and twisted the blade.

Finally, the kodachi tore through the squirrel’s neck, revealing its blood-soaked length.

The squirrel collapsed—maybe from blood loss, maybe from having its neck half-severed. It twitched a few times and then lay still.

The chip-damage strategy wins again. Tutorial… complete.

I was so exhausted I wanted to fall asleep right there, but sleeping in the mountains at dusk is a death flag. I somehow managed to get back to the old man’s hut, practically dragging the squirrel’s corpse.

When the old man saw me, his jaw dropped so far I thought it might’ve dislocated. When he realized I’d killed the monster, his eyes went wide enough to pop out.

“No way… you actually did it… Am I dreaming…?” he kept muttering, as if in a trance. I told him he was finally going senile, and he smacked me on the head.

“You damn cheeky apprentice…”

He said that, and just like that time I’d come back after running for my life, he hugged me. But this time, it wasn’t me who started crying. It was the old man.

And so, having cleared all the tutorial events, I received the old man’s old adventuring gear as a gift. I hitched a ride on a merchant’s wagon and escaped my remote home village.

The old man said it would be good for me to head north.

I wonder why?