Magical Girl

Chapter 3

Aldrin was an obscure little town, while Jettugala was the nearest city—a city, not just a town. In this isolated world, Marlene had tried countless times to gather clues about the era and location she was in. She guessed she might have been transported to a small medieval European town, based on the races and appearances of the people, their clothing, architecture, and language. But that was as far as her guesswork could take her. Few people in town could read, and none knew the current year, who the king was, or even where their town lay within the world. The only known information about the outside world was that Aldrin was part of a region called Yamanren, a duchy, and the nearest city was Jettugala.

Aldrin, Jettugala, Yamanren… these names were unfamiliar to Marlene. She knew that medieval Europe was fragmented, with countless small nations, so she could only assume that Yamanren belonged to some insignificant little kingdom.

She constantly dreamed of leaving for a bigger city, yet the transportation here was terribly inadequate. Even reaching Jettugala, the nearest city, took ten days. The path was desolate, winding through forests. Frail as she was, Marlene couldn’t possibly make the journey alone. Even a strong man traveling solo would likely end up as a bandit’s latest catch or a wild animal’s meal.

Marlene had been saving money, hoping to join a caravan bound for the city. But no matter how carefully she hid her savings—under wood piles, in wall crevices, on beams—Karl always managed to find it. Not only did she lose her money, but she’d also get a severe beating.

Although she knew it was impossible to catch the caravan now, Marlene felt a surge of excitement. She tried to suppress it, grabbing Bess and asking, “You’re going to Jettugala?”

“Of course,” Bess replied, looking Marlene up and down with a sneer. “Oh, I get it. Who wouldn’t want to leave a dump like Aldrin? But don’t get any ideas. With the way you look, you’d best stay here in the countryside.”

Marlene had heard that a caravan trip to Jettugala cost at least four Yamanren gold coins—more than a third of her total worth—because the caravans hired mercenaries to fend off beasts and bandits, which drove up the cost.

She asked softly, “You’ve saved up enough?”

Bess grinned smugly. “I don’t need to save. The mercenaries Lord Rod hired are leaving soon; they’re heading back to Jettugala, and I’ve asked them to take me with them. You know, they’re not just any mercenaries—they’re registered with the mercenary guild. They’re way better than the old, sickly men guarding the caravans…”

Marlene could barely contain her excitement. “Bess… Bess, could they take me too?”

Bess shot her a mocking look. “You? Forget Marlene—donkey-faced Marlene was already turned down. What a pipe dream.”

The name Marlene was incredibly common in the countryside; there were seven or eight Marlenes in her village alone. Donkey-faced Marlene had earned that nickname because of her slightly long face. She was another woman of the trade, much fairer and fuller than Marlene, and was said to be quite popular.

“Well, what can you do? After all, she’s already old,” Bess said.

In reality, donkey-faced Marlene was barely in her twenties, but this life had drained her youth far too soon. Even with makeup, they all looked haggard.

Of course. Why would they? Marlene thought bitterly. She had no money, and nothing to sell in terms of looks. Why would anyone take her along?

Bess continued to gloat, “Normally, a trip to Jettugala costs four gold coins per person, and they only hire ordinary mercenaries. They might just manage against beasts and common bandits, but if they ran into a magical beast, even a low-level one, everyone would be finished. But Fili and his team are different. They’re true mercenaries—they’ve defeated magical beasts before.”

Marlene didn’t respond. Though she’d often heard stories of magical beasts in the village and town, to the modern-educated Lingling, they sounded like ghost stories she’d heard as a child. Just tales, nothing to do with reality.

And were they really “magical beasts”? The language here used phonetic scripts, and “magical beast” was just Marlene’s translation into her familiar language, based on others’ descriptions. She wasn’t sure what the term actually referred to. In ancient times, people often explained unknown things with their imagination, which gave birth to countless tales of monsters and ghosts. In the end, it was often just a case of hysteria.

Marlene had seen superstitious people before, even well-educated ones with degrees in physics and chemistry. In this backward time and place, few people could read, so it was no surprise that everyone was superstitious. As a born materialist, she wouldn’t believe in “magical beasts” based on the words of country bumpkins.

“Oh, really? They must be incredible…” Marlene replied, feigning interest. “So they’re leaving tomorrow?”

“Yes. They’re not like the lazy men in our town; they have important business in Jettugala,” Bess replied proudly, as if the mercenaries’ prowess somehow reflected glory onto her.

Marlene humored her with a few more comments, managing to glean the exact time and location of the mercenaries’ departure.

After Marlene left, Bess also packed up and caught up with the companions walking ahead of her. A woman walking with her glanced at Marlene’s back and asked, "Bess, who is that?"

"Marlene Dass, from my village," Bess said. "She dreams of becoming a lady every day, but her father is just a drunk."

The girls burst into exaggerated laughter. "How could there be any ladies in Auderin? Hahaha."

By the time Marlene returned to the village, it was already dark. She thought to herself, "This is bad, I’ve wasted too much time. Carl is probably going to notice."

Marlene quietly sneaked back into her room, took off her coat, and changed into her dirty work apron. Just then, she heard a man’s loud shout from outside.

"You worthless w***e! Where’s my dinner?"

Before Marlene had a chance to respond, the man kicked open the door, grabbed her by the hair, and dragged her outside, throwing her onto the filthy ground.

"Go make dinner!" His filthy foot kicked Marlene in the stomach.

Marlene didn’t make a single sound the entire time, nor did she beg the man for mercy, because she knew that even if she did, it wouldn’t soften his heart.

She touched her shoulder-length hair and thought, "I need to cut my hair again." Having long hair wasn’t good; it was like an easy handle for people to grab and control her more easily. She shouldn’t have grown it out.

As she walked into the kitchen, Marlene suddenly remembered the wages she had just received today. Carl’s sudden appearance had thrown her off, and the silver coins were still in the pocket of the clothes she had changed out of.

Marlene rushed back to her room, but ran right into Carl. He slapped her across the face without hesitation.

"You filthy w***e, sneaking off to get your wages!" Carl was holding Marlene's patched-up cloth purse, which contained the wages she had brought back from town today—her living expenses for the coming week.

"Give me my money back! You just took twenty-six silver coins two days ago, isn’t that enough for you to squander?!" Marlene rushed at him, trying to snatch it back. Carl had already taken all the silver coins she’d painstakingly saved, and if he took these three or so silver coins, what was she supposed to live on?

Carl punched Marlene in the face, and the frail Marlene instantly fell to the ground. Her vision blurred and her mind went blank. For a moment, she thought she might die right then and there.

Carl kept cursing at her as he walked away, but Marlene’s ears were ringing so loudly she couldn’t hear what he was saying.

After a long while, Marlene finally regained consciousness. She remained on the ground, her gaze vacant, as if the beating had left her a fool.

She stayed motionless for a while, but gradually, a thought surfaced—if things continued like this, there was no point in going on. She might as well take a chance; perhaps she could at least save her miserable life.

With determination hardening in her heart, Marlene made up her mind.

She got up and began to clean her wounds. Her face was swollen on one side, and her left eye was so puffed up that she could barely see out of it. She soaked an old rag in cold water and pressed it to the swelling, hoping it would go down overnight, at least enough to restore her vision.

The house was empty, save for a small bag of beans and a few potatoes. Marlene had picked up the potatoes by the roadside; Karl never brought food back. If there was nothing to eat, he’d just beat her. Where she got food from was none of his concern.

Marlene boiled the potatoes. As for the beans, she ground them into a coarse paste and made some hard, dry cakes. She baked them thoroughly to preserve them. These bean cakes were filling, though they tasted terrible and were difficult to digest, but Marlene had no other choice. As long as they kept her from starving, they’d have to do.

Once she’d finished, she heard Karl singing outside. He was drunk, sounding quite happy.

Peeking through the door crack, she saw him staggering with a bottle of liquor. Good, he was heavily intoxicated. When he was this drunk, he probably wouldn’t bother her again tonight.

Marlene finished eating the mashed potatoes and packed the bean cakes into a small sack. She didn’t have many clothes, so she bundled up what little she had with the cakes.

Then she heard Karl’s snores—he had fallen asleep.

She cautiously approached him, searching through his pockets. Village liquor only cost ten copper coins a bottle; maybe he hadn’t spent all his money yet. Ignoring the stench of alcohol, Marlene searched every pocket, but she didn’t find a single coin.

Her eyes filled with tears. She had known Karl wouldn’t leave a cent behind.

But without even a single coin, how could she survive?

In this moment of despair, Marlene remembered Milian.

Poor Milian. Although she hadn’t been very loving toward Marlene, at least she remembered she was a mother. In her final days, Milian had weakly told Marlene that she had left her daughter a small inheritance.

The reason Marlene had never taken it was because she knew she’d be caught if she did—Milian had hidden the jewelry in the fireplace wall when the craftsman was repairing it.

Marlene didn’t care anymore. She had to take what Milian left behind and leave Aldrin! Didn’t Bess say that the mercenaries were heading to Jettugala tomorrow morning? Once she had this inheritance, she would be gone, far away, and it wouldn’t matter whether Karl found out or not.

There weren’t many tools at home—just an old pair of scissors. They couldn’t afford extra firewood, so Marlene had put out the stove after dinner. Now, the fireplace was cold. Following the information Milian had left her ten years ago, Marlene found the spot and carefully chipped away along a crack in the fireplace wall.

Sweating from the effort, she finally uncovered a small cloth pouch hidden within.

When she opened it, Marlene could hardly believe it. She had imagined Milian had left her something valuable, but it was just an old necklace. The chain appeared to be silver, with a dusty golden ring dangling from it, set with a small, flawed red gemstone with visible imperfections. The gem was tiny, and Marlene’s experience told her that such a small, poor-quality gem wouldn’t be worth much.

Still, it had some value. She held it tightly in her hand, but then a shadow fell over her.

A voice, reeking of alcohol, sounded behind her: “That’s Milian’s ring!”